My mother died unexpectedly during surgery. During my darkest time, my boyfriend Wright stayed by my side. Later, I discovered that my mother’s surgery was performed by Wright’s childhood friend Chris. Chris was just an intern with no surgical qualifications. Yet Wright helped Chris hide this from me. I broke up with him and studied hard, becoming the nation’s finest neurosurgeon. Twenty years later, I received a surgical case. When I opened the patient file, I discovered the patient was Wright’s father. I said to my assistant: “I’m not doing this surgery!” “Dr. Lester, what do you mean?” My assistant Carlos was still frozen in place while I had already started packing up. “Change my flight for me.” “But… there’s not a second person in the country who can perform brainstem tumor surgery. If you leave, the patient will…” “I know, but I can’t take this case.” I pulled open the door and walked out of the conference room. Neville from Central Hospital’s neurosurgery department hurried over, forcing a smile onto his face. “Dr. Lester, I’m Neville from neurosurgery.” He extended his hand. I didn’t shake it. He awkwardly withdrew it, rubbing his hands together. “We’ve been preparing for this surgery for three months. It wasn’t easy getting you here from New York, and the patient’s family…” “Neville,” I cut him off directly, “I’ll submit my recusal in writing.” He froze for a moment, then leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “Dr. Lester, you may not understand the situation. This patient’s son is our associate director Wright, and his daughter-in-law is the former director Anderson’s daughter. If you just walk away like this, I won’t be able to explain it.” “That’s your problem.” I walked around him and continued toward the exit. Behind me, Neville took two steps forward, his tone becoming urgent. “Dr. Lester, at least give me a reason so I can respond to the family. Is there a problem with the surgical plan? Are you dissatisfied with our surgical conditions? Equipment, team, post-operative care—name your requirements and we’ll fully cooperate!” “I’m not dissatisfied with anything. The surgery itself is possible, but someone else needs to do it.” “Is it a cost issue then? The family said cost isn’t a problem. Name your price!” “It’s not about the money.” Before he could continue, I cut him off. “Neville, my decision won’t change.” Just before the elevator doors closed, Neville finally snapped out of it and pulled out his phone to make a call. Carlos followed me downstairs, jogging all the way to the parking lot. “Dr. Lester, what’s going on?” He blocked the car door, his forehead covered in sweat. “This isn’t like you. What surgery haven’t you taken on? You’ve encountered far more dangerous situations before. Today, just one medical record and…” “Carlos.” I looked at him. He stopped talking. “You’ve been with me for four years. Have you ever seen my hands shake during surgery?” “No.” “What if I told you that for this surgery, I’m certain my hands would shake from nerves?” Carlos frowned, hesitating to speak. “Neurosurgery can’t tolerate half a millimeter of error.” Twenty years. I spent twenty years making my hands absolutely steady. Even after twelve hours of continuous surgery, my margin of error never exceeds three millimeters. My colleagues all think I’m a precision instrument, unnaturally calm in any situation. But today, when I saw that name and that face, my heart still couldn’t remain calm. Twenty years ago, because of a half-centimeter error, my mother was left there forever. My phone vibrated. It was an unknown number. “Hello, Dr. Lester. I’m the patient’s family member. I heard you refused the surgery. Could we meet in person?” I didn’t know who sent this message, but I knew Wright must be among the family members. I didn’t reply. Soon, a second text came in: [For a doctor, the worst thing isn’t surgical failure—it’s refusing to save a life.]

“Dr. Lester, please wait! The former director’s daughter insists on meeting you in person no matter what!” Neville was now blocking my car directly, looking like he’d fight to the death to stop me. “Chris?” “You know her?” Of course I did. Wright’s wife, Director Anderson’s only daughter. Twenty years ago she was still a student, throwing her weight around the hospital because of her father’s position. “No, I’ve just heard the name.” Neville sighed. “This patient’s son Wright is Chris’s husband. He’s also our state’s neurosurgery… well, associate chief physician.” He chose his words carefully, speaking to me with great caution. “Dr. Lester, I know you must have your reasons. But if this blows up, it won’t be good for either of us. How about you don’t leave yet, and let the family come meet you first?” “I don’t need to talk anymore.” “Dr. Lester!” Neville was getting desperate now, leaning right up to my car window. “Dr. Lester, please listen. Chris and Director Wright’s family has excellent background and resources. Whatever concerns or conditions you have, you can state them. I’m sure they’ll do their best to accommodate you. But if I let you leave without a word today, whether it’s you or me, we’ll both have considerable trouble.” “Just consider it helping me out. Even if you just meet with the Anderson family and Director Wright once!” “Neville, I won’t take the case. Just report it up the chain. The hospital will coordinate another expert. Wouldn’t that be faster?” He gave a bitter smile. “You’re the top-ranked expert. If you refuse, the people after you won’t dare take it either.” I was about to reassure him when my phone rang. “Hello, is this Lester?” An unfamiliar female voice, but I didn’t need an introduction to know who it was. “I’m the patient’s daughter-in-law, Chris. I heard you refused to perform surgery on my father-in-law. I’d like to speak with you in person. Are you available tomorrow morning?” I struggled to suppress my emotions. When I didn’t speak, she continued. “Whatever you’re thinking, you looked at the file and left without any explanation. That doesn’t exactly follow protocol. Let’s meet?” “I’ll submit written documentation in a timely manner.” “Isn’t meeting faster than you submitting documentation? What is it you don’t dare discuss in person?” Chris’s tone was starting to carry anger. She thought I was just putting on airs. “Fine. I’ll come to the hospital again tomorrow.” My tone returned to calm. Perhaps it was time to settle certain things. “Good. My husband Director Wright and I will both come tomorrow.” “No problem.” Neville finally breathed a sigh of relief when I agreed. “Dr. Lester, see you tomorrow then!” He bowed slightly, then turned and left. I sat back down and glanced at Carlos. “Cancel the flight. I’m not leaving.”

Early the next morning, I arrived at the conference room to wait. Before long, a woman in a coat strode in purposefully. A man followed behind her, still with that composed demeanor. Even after twenty years, I could recognize him at a glance. I’d imagined countless scenarios of seeing him again, yet I still felt the urge to rush forward and settle things with him. “You’re Dr. Lester?” The woman scanned the room, her gaze finally settling on me. Neville quickly stood up. “Ms. Chris, this is Dr. Lester. Dr. Lester, this is…” “You’re Dr. Lester?” Chris interrupted him, walking straight up to me. She didn’t recognize me. The girl who cried herself unconscious outside the morgue twenty years ago bore little resemblance to the doctor who had published six authoritative neurosurgery papers. “Dr. Lester, what’s the meaning of this? You just decide not to do it? We confirmed the schedule with your team three days ago. The equipment is calibrated, the care plan is ready, and now you’re backing out?” “Ms. Chris, I already told Neville I’d submit a report.” “Submit what report?” She laughed. “You can perform far more difficult surgeries flawlessly, but this one scares you?” Wright saw the atmosphere turning sour and immediately tried to smooth things over. “Dr. Lester, I’m the patient’s son, Wright. I understand you may have your own considerations, but my father’s condition is truly urgent. If it’s about the cost…” “It’s not about the cost.” “Then what is it?” Chris slammed her bag on the table. Neville quickly stepped forward. “Ms. Chris, calm down. Dr. Lester may really be…” “She may really be what? A top neurosurgeon turns and walks away from a patient waiting to be saved?” She turned to stare at me. “Let me tell you something, Lester. My father may be retired, but he’s still an advisory committee member for Health and Human Services. One phone call and I can make you…” “Chris.” Wright grabbed her arm and lowered his voice. “Calm down.” Then he looked at me with an apologetic smile. I knew that smile well. Twenty years ago at the morgue entrance, he’d comforted me with the same expression: “Lester, you have to be strong.” Then he turned around and got engaged to Chris, while my appeal materials were sent back rejected. “Dr. Lester, I don’t know your real reason for refusing. But as a colleague, I believe you’re a person with medical ethics. My father…” I couldn’t listen to his words, so I spoke directly. “Dr. Wright, my decision won’t change because of anyone’s persuasion.” Chris’s face darkened completely. “Fine. You’re quite something. You’re the expert, you’re impressive. Well, let me tell you—tomorrow the state expert committee is meeting to discuss this. I hope you maintain this attitude.” She picked up her bag and dropped one more line as she turned. “The people I despise most in my life are those who gain a little skill and start putting on airs. Doctors saving lives is a given. It’s not your place to pick and choose.” Her heels clicked against the floor, the sound fading away. Wright hesitated for a moment, then spoke to me. “Dr. Lester, I apologize. My wife has a quick temper. Please think it over carefully. My number is always available.” Neville didn’t dare breathe until Wright left. “Dr. Lester, why put yourself through this? Even if you have concerns, you could discuss them properly…” “Neville, I do have my reasons. There’s no way I can perform this surgery.” “Alright then… You’d better prepare well for tomorrow. I’m afraid she won’t let this go.” I nodded and called for Carlos to prepare to leave. Whether Chris would let it go, I didn’t know. But tomorrow, I wasn’t planning to let it go either.

“Dr. Lester, your reason for not performing this surgery is?” The speaker was Pearson, deputy director of Health and Human Services. The next morning, the expert committee meeting. In attendance besides the hospital’s department heads were two representatives sent by Health and Human Services. “I cannot guarantee absolute composure during the operation.” “What do you mean you can’t guarantee it?” Pearson flipped through the materials in front of him. “Dr. Lester, I’ve reviewed your record. In the past three years, you’ve performed forty-seven high-difficulty surgeries with a one hundred percent success rate. How can you not be confident?” “This one, I’m not.” “Why?” I didn’t answer immediately. The other representative interjected. “Dr. Lester, we understand every doctor has their own judgment. But this case is rather special. The patient’s surgical window is very short. If you don’t take it, the patient’s survival rate is essentially zero.” “My personal refusal doesn’t mean there are no other options. You can contact other teams.” Pearson cleared his throat. “We’ve contacted them all. Only you have both the capability and the time.” “I can’t do it.” “Can’t do it and don’t want to do it are two different things, Dr. Lester.” The door was pushed open. Chris walked in, followed by Wright and an elderly man with a cane. The old man appeared to be in his seventies, his face waxy yellow but his back ramrod straight. “Director Anderson, why did you come?” Neville stood up. Anderson was his former supervisor. “It’s about Carter. I can’t not be involved.” Anderson slowly walked to the table and sat down, glancing at me. “Dr. Lester,” Anderson coughed lightly. “I worked at this hospital for forty years. Mr. Carter is my old partner, my old friend. His illness can’t be delayed.” “Director Anderson, I understand your feelings. But—” “Let me finish first.” He raised his hand, stopping me. “I know you’re a top expert from New York. Your time is valuable, your skills remarkable. But in this profession, the most important thing isn’t just skill.” He stared at me, his eyes cloudy yet sharp. “The most important thing is conscience.” Chris stood behind her father, her expression still cold and haughty. Wright sat nearby, his expression pained and earnest. “I’m refusing the surgery precisely because of my conscience.” “How so?” “Brainstem surgery has extremely strict requirements for the chief surgeon’s psychological state. Any emotional fluctuation could lead to intraoperative errors. I’ve assessed my own condition. I cannot remain absolutely calm.” “Are you saying you have personal feelings toward my father?” Wright frowned, his tone somewhat surprised. “Dr. Lester, to my knowledge, we should have no prior connection.” I looked at him. He looked at me, his gaze frank and without guilt. No connection. He didn’t recognize me, yet I’d remembered him for twenty years. “Whether there’s a connection doesn’t matter.” I took a light sip of tea. “What matters is that once I’m in the operating room, I cannot ensure one hundred percent focus. On that point alone, I shouldn’t take this case.” Pearson impatiently tapped the table. “Dr. Lester, let’s speak plainly. There is no regulation that allows a doctor to refuse surgery without reason. If you can’t find a clear recusal basis, this is dereliction of duty.” “Director Pearson, the Medical Practitioners Law…” “Don’t quote regulations at me.” He slammed his pen on the table. “Let me lay out the situation. Tomorrow, every major medical media outlet will follow this story. The top expert flies over a thousand miles to perform surgery, looks at the medical record, and walks away. Do you think that’s appropriate?” I didn’t speak. Chris stepped forward. “Dr. Lester, maybe my words yesterday were too harsh. I apologize. But think about it—if this gets out, that you refused to save a life, how will you live with yourself going forward?” Wright also stood up and bowed to me. “Dr. Lester, if my father and I have done anything to make you uncomfortable, I apologize. I also understand your concerns. How about this—we’ll double the surgical fee. For your peace of mind, I personally…” “Dr. Wright,” I interrupted him, “can you answer one question for me?” He froze, then nodded. “Please, go ahead.” “Your father practiced medicine for forty years. How many surgeries did he perform?” “Over a thousand. He was the founder of our state’s neurosurgery department.” Wright straightened his chest as he said this. “Of those thousand-plus surgeries, were there many failures?” The conference room atmosphere froze. Wright’s gaze didn’t waver, but he hesitated for a moment. “All surgeries carry risk. None can be one hundred percent successful.” “What happened to the families of the patients who didn’t make it?” “Dr. Lester, that has nothing to do with the current matter.” “Is that so.” I stood up and picked up my bag. “Then my refusal also has nothing to do with the current matter. Everyone, excuse me.” Behind me came Chris’s shrill voice. “Go ahead and leave! Once you leave, don’t think about coming back. I’ll let the entire industry know that New York’s Dr. Lester is someone who refuses to save lives!” I pushed open the door. Carlos still couldn’t help leaning close to my ear. “Dr. Lester, how about… you tell me the truth. Why won’t you do this surgery?” I turned to look at her. Three years ago, fresh out of graduate school, she’d sent out over a hundred resumes with no offers. I was the one who recruited her to the team. She trusted me and understood me. But this matter—I’d never told her. “Carlos.” “Yes.” “Twenty years ago, this hospital’s neurosurgery department had a man-made medical accident. The patient was named Charlotte.” Her expression slowly changed. “Charlotte… was she your…?” “My mother.” She froze, not knowing what to say. “The chief surgeon was Carter—the man now lying in a hospital bed waiting for me to save him.” Carlos stood there, unable to speak for a long time. “Prepare a formal recusal application for me. Tomorrow at the ethics committee meeting, I’ll explain it myself.” When I reached the main entrance, Carlos called out softly behind me. “Dr. Lester, would your hands… really shake?” I clenched my fist and sighed. “As long as that face appears in front of me, I can’t control it.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “395275”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

In my past life, after being recognized and brought back to the Williams family, I chose to study medicine to care for Wilson, the frail and sickly adopted heir. But he pretended his condition was worsening, accused me of refusing to save him, and tried to steal everything that was mine. My fiancée Patterson believed him and joined forces with Wilson to throw me out. Not long after, I contracted tuberculosis and died on the streets. When I woke again, I had returned to the day I was brought back to the Williams family at age five. Patterson blocked my parents’ path, pointing at me and saying: “You’ve got the wrong person. This boy isn’t your biological son at all.” After my parents left in disappointment, she handed me a piece of candy. “One heir is enough for the Williams family. Don’t even think about taking Wilson’s place.” Looking at the disgust on her face, I knew she had been reborn too. I clenched the candy tightly, its hard edges almost piercing my palm. Yes, in her eyes from my past life, I was nothing but a malicious, jealous person—a useless failure who couldn’t cure Wilson. Since Wilson’s condition still deteriorated because of me in the past life. Then in this new life, someone as calculating as me naturally had no need to be brought back to the Williams family. I smiled and held back my tears. I wiped my eyes hard, telling myself that Howard was dead. The one alive now was just me. I turned and walked back to my corner of the orphanage. Before long, a black sedan stopped at the entrance. The director led in an elderly man with white hair. All the children in the orphanage erupted with excitement, chattering like a flock of sparrows as they crowded around him, eagerly trying to show off. “Hello, sir!” “Sir, let me sing for you!” “Sir, look at my drawing!” Only I remained quietly in my inconspicuous corner, like an outsider. Mr. Johnson noticed me. He parted the crowd and walked toward me step by step, leaning on his cane. “Little one, why are you here all alone? Don’t they like you?” I shook my head and lifted my small face, holding out the candy that had grown warm in my grip. “Sir, have some candy.” I tried to display a composure and maturity beyond my years. He paused, clearly surprised. He took the candy, unwrapped it, and put it in his mouth, a contented smile spreading across his face. “Mm, very sweet.” He looked at me deeply, then asked, “What’s your name?” “My name is Holmes.” “Holmes…” He repeated it, nodding. “Would you like to come home with me? To be my grandson.” The room instantly fell silent. All the children’s eyes focused on me, filled with envy. I didn’t hesitate for a moment and nodded firmly. “I would.” He burst into hearty laughter, his voice booming. “Good! Good! From today on, you’ll be called Holmes Johnson.” He took my hand, his palm warm and dry. “Holmes is a good name.” “Child, I hope you will become a priceless treasure.” I understood the value he placed on me and his expectations. In that moment, I gripped his hand tightly. I became the golden child of the Johnson family. Mr. Johnson treasured me like a precious jewel, personally teaching me to read and write and how to conduct myself in the world. Although his children were busy with work, they brought me various novel gifts every time they came home and genuinely cared about me. The one who doted on me most was my sister Jones, who was ten years older than me. When she first met me, her cool face broke into a gentle smile. “Nobody touches the Johnson family heir.” That was her constant refrain. Surrounded by such love, I almost forgot the pain of my past life. I studied diligently. From elementary school through high school, I was always first in my class. Competition trophies and certificates filled my room. In college, I chose medicine without hesitation. Because I knew Wilson’s illness was the eternal pain in the Williams family’s and Patterson’s hearts, and also a blade hanging over my head.

Twenty years later, I became one of the youngest and most renowned internal medicine doctors and medical researchers in the country. My days were peaceful and fulfilling. I thought the Williams family would disappear from my life forever. Until that day when my assistant knocked on my office door. “Dr. Holmes, there’s a woman named Patterson outside who specifically asked to see you.” “She says she wants you to examine her fiancé. She booked our most expensive specialist appointment.” Hearing that name, my heart seized uncontrollably for a moment. I took a deep breath, suppressing my emotions, my voice calm and level. “Let her in.” A woman with an aloof demeanor walked in. Her features had shed their youthful innocence, becoming more refined and sophisticated. The moment Patterson saw me, she froze. Those deep eyes filled with shock and disbelief. She never imagined that the medical expert she had searched so hard to find would be the very person she had abandoned twenty years ago. After a long pause, she finally found her voice, her tone full of doubt. “You… are Dr. Holmes?” I nodded. “Miss Patterson, please sit. Tell me about your fiancé’s condition.” But she acted as if she hadn’t heard me, scrutinizing me instead. “You’re really a doctor? How confident are you that you can cure my fiancé?” Her attitude made it seem like I was some charlatan. My assistant could barely stand listening and couldn’t help but speak up. “Ma’am, Dr. Holmes is the most authoritative expert in our hospital. His time is very valuable…” I looked at Patterson, a faint smile playing at the corners of my mouth. “It seems Miss Patterson doesn’t quite trust my professional abilities.” “In that case, let’s cancel this consultation.” “Paul, show her out.” Patterson’s face instantly turned ugly. She bit her lip, but in the end said nothing and turned to storm out. My assistant stomped his foot in frustration. “Dr. Holmes, that woman is so rude! Who does she think she is?” I smiled indifferently. “It’s fine, just an ordinary patient.” To me, this was indeed just an insignificant little episode. Because my life had long since ceased to have anything to do with them. After work, Patterson suddenly appeared at the entrance to the laboratory building, blocking my way. Her face wore a complex, grim expression. I immediately frowned. “Can I help you?” She stared at me intently, remaining silent for a long time before squeezing out words through gritted teeth. “Howard, I’m warning you.” “No matter what your status is now, don’t even think about hurting Wilson.” I almost laughed in anger. Twenty years ago, she had ruthlessly prevented my biological parents from bringing me back to the Williams family, and now she was calling me Howard again. Now she had sought me out herself, yet her first move was to warn me not to hurt Wilson? What made her think I would waste my time on someone like that? I looked at her like I was looking at an unreasonable lunatic. “Miss Patterson, my surname is Johnson. My name is Holmes Johnson. Please don’t get it wrong.” “Furthermore, I don’t know you, and I certainly don’t know your fiancé.” “As a doctor, my duty is to save people, not harm them.” “So why would I want to hurt a complete stranger I don’t even know?” Patterson froze, a flash of bewilderment crossing her face. “You don’t remember me?”

She seemed unable to accept this fact, her voice involuntarily rising. “Twenty years ago, at the orphanage entrance, I was the one who stopped your parents…” She stopped mid-sentence, suddenly cutting herself off, as if even she found that past behavior too shameful to mention. I watched her awkward expression, my heart utterly cold. Of course I remembered. I remembered every single look of disgust, every word of loathing. I remembered how she had personally pushed me away, severing all my illusions about love and family. But I would pretend not to remember. I pretended to think hard, then put on an expression of sudden realization. “Oh—” I deliberately drew out the sound. “So it was you.” I looked at her with an innocent smile. “I’m really sorry, but that was twenty years ago. It’s been too long—I forgot ages ago.” “After all, I have so much important research to do every day. How could I have time to remember such trivial matters?” Patterson’s face instantly turned ashen. Trivial matters? In her view, that had been the pivotal event that determined my fate. This hurt her more than outright insults would have. She gritted her teeth, saying unwillingly, “Stop playing dumb!” “Aren’t you harboring a grudge against me because I prevented the Williams family from adopting you back then?” “Now you want to find an opportunity to get revenge on me and Wilson?” I finally couldn’t hold back a scornful laugh. “Miss Patterson, aren’t you being a bit too full of yourself?” I dropped my smile, my eyes turning cold. “Revenge on you? Are you worth it?” “Come to think of it, I should actually thank you. If you hadn’t been so determined to stop them back then, how would I have had the chance to become Mr. Johnson’s grandson?” “How would I have my current achievements?” “So I should be thanking you—how could I possibly hate you?” Every word I spoke was light and breezy, yet each one stabbed into Patterson’s heart like a knife. She was left speechless, her face alternating between red and white. “Johnson? Stop spouting nonsense!” She immediately sneered. “You think just because your surname is Johnson, you’re related to the Johnson family?” “Stop dreaming. Someone like you could never step through the Johnson family’s door!” Just as she finished speaking, a black Bentley silently pulled up beside us. The door opened and an elegant, distinguished woman stepped out. She walked quickly to my side and naturally draped a coat over my shoulders. Without even glancing at Patterson, she gently ruffled my hair. “Holmes, why haven’t you left yet? Grandpa’s getting impatient.” Only then did her gaze fall on Patterson. “Holmes, who’s this?” I hooked my arm for Jones to take, smiling brightly. “Nothing, just a patient who came in today. We chatted for a bit.” Patterson completely froze in place. She looked at me and Jones’s intimate gestures in disbelief, then at the luxury car that proclaimed its owner’s status. She wasn’t stupid. She of course recognized Jones, the eldest princess of Johnson Corporation. She also of course knew that Jones had a younger brother who was treasured by the entire Johnson family. She just never dreamed that brother would be me. Images from her past life uncontrollably surfaced in her mind—that boy who always followed behind her, timidly calling her Patterson. And now, that boy was smiling radiantly as he offered his arm to another woman. While she stood there dazed, I had already gotten into Jones’s car.

The next day, my assistant told me Patterson had reapplied for a consultation appointment with me. While helping me organize files, my assistant complained. “Dr. Holmes, does this Patterson woman have some kind of problem?” “Two days ago she acted like she didn’t trust you, and today she’s eagerly coming back.” “I think she just saw you’re the Johnson family heir and wants to curry favor with you!” I just smiled and said nothing. I signed my name on the appointment application. I wanted to see what game she was playing now. At three in the afternoon, the Williams family arrived at my examination room with Wilson right on time. After twenty years, Wilson still looked as frail as he had in my past life. Patterson’s attitude was a hundred times better than last time. “Dr. Holmes, I was too impulsive last time. I’m sorry.” Wilson’s parents stood awkwardly to the side, looking at me with complicated expressions. I didn’t bother with them, my gaze falling directly on Wilson. “The patient stays. Family members, please wait outside.” The examination room door closed, blocking the view from outside. Only Wilson and I remained in the room. The frailty on his face instantly vanished without a trace. In its place was undisguised jealousy and malice. He looked me up and down, a mocking smile on his lips. “Howard—no, I should call you Holmes Johnson.” “Never expected this. You really do have nine lives.” “Kicked out by our family, yet you still managed to latch onto the Johnson family. What skills you have.” I looked at him calmly, like watching a clown. “Start the examination. Take off your shirt.” My indifference seemed to infuriate him. While slowly unbuttoning his shirt, he continued to provoke me with his sharp, venomous tone. “What? Think being a doctor makes you so great? Aren’t you still here to examine me?” “Let me tell you, so what if you’re the Johnson family heir now?” “In Patterson’s heart, you’ll never measure up to one of my fingers!” In my past life, he had been exactly like this—one face in public, another in private. In front of Patterson and the Williams parents, he was always the kind, sensible good younger brother. In private, he used the most vicious language to humiliate and trample me. He deliberately broke Mother’s favorite vase, then cried and said I had pushed him into it. He secretly tore up Father’s most important documents, then framed me for it. And I couldn’t defend myself. Every time, all I received was deeper disgust from Patterson and harsher punishment from my parents. But none of that mattered anymore. Living a second life, I had long since stopped caring about these ridiculous tricks. I gave him a thorough series of examinations—auscultation, palpation—every step meticulous. I suppressed my rising anger and glared fiercely at Wilson. He was startled by my expression and immediately became defensive. After completing all the examinations, I had him get dressed. With a dark expression, I walked out of the examination room without a word. Outside, the Williams family and Patterson were waiting anxiously. Seeing me emerge, Patterson was the first to rush over. “Dr. Holmes, Wilson… how is he?” Wilson’s mother, Brodie, even grabbed my arm, her eyes reddening. “Doctor, my son’s illness—is there any hope?” I looked impatient and said directly to Patterson in front of everyone: “Your fiancé’s illness is beyond what our hospital can treat!” The moment those words left my mouth, everyone’s breathing hitched. My assistant looked at me in disbelief. She had never seen me so decisively make such a pronouncement about any patient. This was completely unlike my usual way of doing things. Wilson’s father Yale and Brodie’s faces instantly lost all color. Brodie’s legs went weak and she nearly collapsed to the floor. “How can this be? How can it be untreatable? If even you can’t treat it, then Wilson…” Patterson’s face instantly filled with mockery. “Impossible! You’re the top expert. How could you not be able to treat it!” “You’re settling personal scores!” she shouted. Just then, Wilson also emerged from the examination room. Hearing my words, a flash of triumph crossed his eyes before he squeezed out a few tears. “Patterson, forget it. I knew my illness couldn’t be cured. I don’t blame Dr. Holmes…” I looked coldly at their family and dropped the other half of my statement. “Because Wilson—he’s not sick at all!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “395274”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

When I was five months pregnant, Thomas’s first love came to the house to provoke me and commit arson. I immediately called Thomas for help. In the end, my child was saved, but Mickey died in the fire that day. Thomas said he didn’t blame me and told me to rest easy in the hospital until I gave birth. But on the day I gave birth to our child, he burned me and the baby alive. In my final moment, through the raging flames, I saw his vicious, twisted face. “If you hadn’t deliberately set that fire, Mickey would never have died!” “You think you can fool me by pretending to be the victim? Dream on! You’re going to pay for her life with yours!” “You like setting fires, don’t you? I’ll let you experience it firsthand, feel every bit of Mickey’s pain before she died!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the fire scene. Thick smoke poured into my nostrils, choking me into violent coughs. The pain instantly jolted me awake from my memories of my past life. The first thing I did was pull out my phone, but this time I didn’t dial my firefighter captain husband—I called 911 instead. When the rescue team arrived, I spotted Thomas’s familiar figure from afar. Only after he carried Mickey out of the fire did I feel safe enough to call out for help from the other rescuers. Those crew members thought I was making a fuss and scolded me coldly for a long time. A wall decoration crashed down, slamming hard into my pregnant belly. I coughed up blood on the spot, but they still acted as if they hadn’t noticed. Gritting my teeth through the excruciating pain, I used every ounce of strength to crawl out of the fire scene. But all the cooling and emergency equipment was being used on Mickey. Thomas didn’t even bother to glance at me, only cursing that I got what I deserved. The pain made me break out in cold sweat, blood spilling from my mouth. I could even feel my child’s life rapidly slipping away. In my past life, when the fire first started, both Mickey and I had called Thomas for help at the same time. But for the sake of the child, he chose to rescue me first. By the time he returned to the fire scene, the blaze was out of control and he couldn’t go back in to save anyone. Mickey died in the flames on the spot, burned beyond recognition. Thomas said it was okay and told me not to blame myself. To comfort me, he even took time off to stay with me until I gave birth. But on the day I delivered our child, he dragged me and the baby to Mickey’s grave. Right in front of me, he slit our child’s throat with a knife. Blood splattered across his face, making his eyes look even more bloodshot. “Angel, do you know what it feels like to be burned alive? Mickey suffered through that pain, and I’m going to make you repay it ten times, a hundred times over!” Later, just as he wished, I died in the flames with our child. This time, reborn, I only wanted to escape far away. I never expected he still wouldn’t let me go—he wouldn’t even spare the cooling and first aid equipment for me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw blood gushing from below. I wailed, using my hoarse voice to make one final plea for help. “Save the baby… please…” The crew member closest to me finally noticed and turned to look at me. But his eyes were full of disdain and mockery. He kicked at me with his foot. “Angel, stop acting. Everyone on our team knows you can’t stand Mickey, right?” “I can’t believe you’d commit arson while pregnant. Thomas already went to save someone—no one’s watching your performance anymore.” “Honestly, I kind of admire you. To do this kind of thing for a man.” “But it’s a shame—Thomas only has eyes for Mickey. You better pray she’s okay, or Thomas will divorce you in a heartbeat!” I knew Thomas didn’t love me, but I never imagined even his crew members saw me this way. The violent contractions in my abdomen made it impossible for me to make another sound. My scalding skin was peeling off in the high temperature. All the crew members were busy putting out the fire. Not a single person asked about my condition. As my consciousness faded, I heard someone nearby exclaim: “Oh no! Why is there so much blood on the ground? This is bad—what if something really happened to Angel?” “What could possibly happen? She just wants Thomas to look at her. She’s been making a scene for ages. Whatever, just go call Thomas over and try.” But I didn’t get Thomas’s concern—only his ruthless interrogation. His gloved hand slapped me hard twice across the face. “Angel, wake up. Stop pretending. I’m here now.” “Is your brain broken? You set a fire and managed to burn yourself like this? Shooting yourself in the foot—is this fun for you?” Even at this point, he still thought I set the fire. He still thought I was acting out of jealousy. I wanted to explain, but my mouth was too dry to speak. My stomach hurt terribly. All I could do was reach out and grab his sleeve, hoping he would understand my plea for help. But after hesitating for two seconds, he pressed down hard on my abdomen. “Pretty convincing act. If Mickey hadn’t told me you hid yourself after setting the fire, I might have actually believed you.” After leaving those words, he turned and left without hesitation.

The next second, a crew member’s shocked voice rang out beside me. “Thomas! Blood! Angel is bleeding!” “Is she having a miscarriage?!” “Don’t worry about her. Mickey said it’s just chicken blood. The baby’s already five months along—it’s not that easy to lose. If she wants to act, let her act.” After the intense pain, my vision went black and I lost consciousness completely. In my dream, I seemed to return to when I first met Thomas. At a campus lecture, his face was cold as ice, but his impressive professional skills captured many girls’ hearts. I was no exception. After falling for him at first sight, I started asking around about him. Back then I was still a teaching assistant at the school. He didn’t think much of me. To get his attention, I worked harder and harder. After getting tenure, I invited him to dinner under the guise of gratitude. I keenly noticed that the way he looked at me had changed. I seized that opportunity and pursued him relentlessly. Flowers, basketballs, cakes, coffee—I never held back on gifts. Finally, I got what I wanted. He agreed to my confession. I thought this was the beginning of happiness, but it turned out to be the start of my nightmare. After we got together, he grew colder and colder toward me. Every time we had a date, either he was busy with work or had a sudden rescue mission. I never doubted him until our wedding day. An email from abroad completely shattered my dream. Mickey had documented in detail their ten years together. Every second of those memories felt like a knife to my heart. It turned out that all the time he stood me up, he was spending with another woman. What was even sadder was that I didn’t even have the courage to confront him. I was afraid he would leave. In my past life, when Mickey died, he was so calm that I once thought I was the winner in this relationship. For me and the child, he practically bought out every baby store in the city. This sudden surge of affection made my head spin and I completely lost my ability to think rationally. It wasn’t until the moment I gave birth and died at his hands that I understood. He wasn’t loving me with his life—he was relentlessly taking revenge. The love of his life, from beginning to end, had only ever been Mickey. When I woke up, I was already in a hospital room. The person beside me wasn’t Thomas, but an unfamiliar face. “You’re awake? I’m your downstairs neighbor. I originally went up to check on the fire.” “Who knew when I got there I’d see you lying on the ground alone, so I brought you to the hospital. Are you okay? How do you feel?” I struggled to move my limbs. When my hands touched my belly, my movements froze. “I’m sorry, but when you were brought in, the doctor said your baby couldn’t be saved…” I pulled at the corners of my mouth in a bitter smile. “It’s not your fault. I know.” “Thank you for bringing me to the hospital.” Even a stranger could tell at a glance that something was wrong with me, but my husband of five years couldn’t be bothered to look at me. Seeing my low spirits, he seemed even more upset than I was. “I don’t know what’s wrong with that rescue team. How could they not save someone lying there in plain sight?” “If I hadn’t gone up, you’d be dead by now! Where’s your family? Doesn’t the baby’s father care?” “If you have his number, I’ll contact him. You can’t be alone right now.” “I’ve already reported that rescue team. People like that are a blight on society if they keep working!” I nodded, but when I spoke, only a whisper came out. “The baby’s father is dead.”

His face was filled with sympathy, and he offered to take care of me until I was discharged. I declined his kindness. I transferred him the hospital fees and surgery costs, then urged him to leave. Though he left, the online uproar continued to ferment. The topic of the rescue captain’s house catching fire carried its own buzz. It had already shot to the top of trending topics across all major platforms. The neighbor kindly posted a photo of me collapsed on the ground in the comments section. It instantly sparked heated discussion across the internet. Everyone was condemning the rescue team, asking if they only cared about putting out fires while ignoring a pregnant woman and the life in her belly. If so, they should be called a fire department, not shamelessly claim to be a rescue team. I scrolled through all the online abuse in the comments and felt that such punishment was still too light for Thomas. I opened the chat window, about to send him a message about divorce. But Mickey’s gloating message popped up first. Turned out she was in this hospital too, right on the floor below mine. In the photo, Thomas was personally feeding her porridge, carefully blowing on it again and again to make sure she wouldn’t burn herself. I’d seen countless photos of them intimately intertwined. Such images could no longer stir my emotions. I quietly closed the chat window and called Thomas. On the fifth try, he finally answered, his voice extremely impatient. “You still have the nerve to call me? What do you want? Asking if Mickey’s dead yet?” “Sorry to disappoint you! I already saved Mickey! She’s alive and well, right here in the hospital!” “Angel, knowing you all this time, I never imagined you were this kind of person. Do you know what you did? You tried to kill someone! Are you insane?” “I’m giving you one hour. Get down to the hospital room right now and apologize to her! Or else we’re getting divorced!” Before I could speak, Mickey’s pitiful sobbing came through the line. “Thomas, don’t blame Angel. It’s all my fault. If she says I started the fire, just accept it. Don’t argue with her—pregnant women can’t handle emotional stress.” Thomas let out a long sigh, disappointed. “You’re just too kind. That’s why she keeps walking all over you. We knew each other first. Who does Angel think she is? What right does she have to hurt you?” “Don’t worry about it. This time I’m definitely going to teach her a lesson!” While the two of them were being sickeningly sweet, I said calmly: “Fine, let’s get divorced. I agree. I’ll send you the papers right away. Remember to sign them.” Thomas clearly hadn’t expected me to bring up divorce first. After a moment of shock, his anger exploded. Just as he was about to lash out, I abruptly hung up. Before I could block his number, a barrage of text messages came flooding in. “Where are you? Angel, have you lost your mind today? I’ve been holding back because you’re pregnant, and now you’re pushing your luck?” “You think just because you’re pregnant I won’t dare divorce you? I’m afraid on the day you give birth you’ll have no one to sign the papers and you’ll have to crawl out of bed and beg me on your knees!” “And the news online—take it down immediately! Don’t make me expose your true face to the public!” I didn’t keep reading. I deleted all the messages and blocked his number.

Even though I’d already gone through the bloody lesson of my past life. Being betrayed by him again still made my heart ache involuntarily for a moment. The nurses who came in to change my bandages didn’t notice my expression and started chatting among themselves. “That man downstairs is so handsome. It’s the first time I’ve seen a couple so well-matched! I heard they’re childhood sweethearts, a campus romance. I’m so jealous.” “Your news is old. Latest update—Mr. Thomas spent a fortune to rent out an entire cafeteria window just so he can personally cook for his beloved wife every day!” “Just now when I went to apply her medicine, Mr. Thomas wouldn’t even let me touch her. He insisted on doing it himself. True love is so sweet!” I stared numbly at the needle marks on the back of my hand. My arm, with a layer of skin peeled off, was both painful and itchy. When they left, I felt relieved and gasped for oxygen, but somehow couldn’t draw it into my chest. That evening, the doctor came to see me and said my abdomen had suffered severe trauma. It would be very difficult for me to have children in the future. Hearing this, my first reaction was actually relief. At least without a child, he wouldn’t have to suffer with me. An innocent life deserved a better future. After everyone left the room, I took out my phone to check the latest developments online. The cyberbullying had escalated beyond control, forcing the rescue unit’s leadership to issue a statement. However, his explanation was that the fire was entirely staged by me, that I deliberately hurt someone out of jealousy. Not only did I waste the unit’s rescue resources, but I also got their captain criticized. In the video, the leader kept saying he hoped netizens would let this matter go. But every word was directing the source of the conflict toward me. To increase the video’s credibility, Thomas registered an account under his real name and posted our marriage certificate. His action completely sealed my fate in the wave of online abuse. The criticism that had been aimed at the rescue team suddenly turned toward me. My homepage was overwhelmed and banned by the platform. My attempts to explain were drowned in the netizens’ curses. Over the next few days, I could feel the hospital staff looking at me with hostility. If not for their professional ethics barely holding up, I probably would have been kicked out already. Every day I received packages from different places, all without exception containing threats. Faced with all this, I never offered a single word of explanation. Only on the day the doctor said I could be discharged did I send Thomas a message. “Let’s go to City Hall tomorrow and finalize things.” He seized this opening to call me back. “What, finally can’t hide anymore? Finally have the nerve to show your face? I warned you. I gave you a chance. You’re the one who refused to take down the online controversy. Don’t blame me for being merciless now!” “If Mickey hadn’t pleaded for you, I would have reported you to the police long ago!” “Fine, let’s divorce. When the child has no father, don’t come crying to me! If he becomes an orphan, it’s your own doing!” Before I could speak, he’d already hung up. I quietly opened our home security camera app and downloaded the footage of Mickey committing arson that day. Early the next morning, after checking out of the hospital, I headed straight to City Hall with my documents. But when the time came, it was Mickey who showed up. “I told you long ago, you can’t beat me. Your husband is nothing but my lapdog.” Looking at my abdomen, she feigned surprise. “Oh my, where’s the baby? What a shame. In the past life, killed by his own father. In this life, killed by his own father again. Having you as a mother, what a short-lived ghost…” She was reborn too?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “395273”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

The system urged me to abandon this mission and detach from my host body immediately. It said, “Go take one last look at him.” I went to Arthur’s bedchamber, only to see a woman who looked strikingly like me lying in his arms, the two of them tangled together in bed. I told the system, “He used to love me so much.” The system nodded. “Yeah. Who knew love turning to hate could be so terrifying?” 01 I took one last look at the place where I had been imprisoned for seven years. The layout of the room was exquisite, but without anyone to clean it for years, a thin layer of dust covered almost everything. I couldn’t leave. Every day, all I could do was stare at the small, square patch of sky visible through the window. The housekeeper who took care of me was mute. I had no one to talk to, and the entire courtyard was terrifyingly quiet. To ensure no one would ever find me, Arthur deliberately locked me in the most remote, abandoned manor on the edge of the estate, surrounded by heavy security. The housekeeper who brought my daily meals could only pass the tray through a small window onto a wall-mounted shelf. She didn’t even dare to look at me, let alone communicate. If I didn’t have the system keeping me company… I think… Seven years of isolation would have driven me completely insane. Actually, a long time ago, the housekeeper who brought my meals could speak. Her heart ached for me. Even though she didn’t know why I was locked up here, she always looked at me with deep pity. She would say that even if a young girl like me made a mistake, I didn’t deserve such a cruel punishment. She knew how much suffering and loneliness I endured locked in this place. So, even though she couldn’t come inside, she would often stand by the window to talk to me, praying that one day I would regain my freedom. But before I even had the chance to thank her… I got her killed. That was the first time I truly hated myself. Because Arthur had overheard her. He locked me up to keep me trapped here forever. The word “freedom” was never supposed to be associated with me again. But someone had spoken it, and he had heard it. So Arthur smiled, and he raged. Then, using the calmest tone imaginable, he handed down the most barbaric punishment to the housekeeper. She was tortured to death. Her eyes were gouged out, and her tongue was cut off. Because Arthur said, “I don’t want to hear her voice!” No matter how hard I begged, it was useless. That was the very first time I realized that, over the course of ten years, I had never truly understood who Arthur was. That night, the housekeeper’s agonizing screams echoed in my ears. The metallic stench of blood seeped into the room from outside, and I crouched on the floor, violently throwing up. Arthur stood right outside my locked door. His eyes were colder than ice. The way he looked at me no longer held the love it once did—instead, I saw a twisted, venomous hatred. He said, “Chloe, don’t you ever think about leaving me!” He kept his word. He ordered the manor completely sealed off. Over the next seven years, he turned this place into a ghost house. The housekeeper who brought my meals had to be a mute, and absolutely no one else dared to come near. 02 When I was first locked in the abandoned manor. Arthur would come see me every day. His eyes carried suppressed love, yet he forced himself to stay standing at the doorway, keeping a strict distance. The few dozen steps between us felt like an uncrossable chasm. When I smiled at him, he would avert his eyes, refusing to look. “Chloe, stop trying to use that trick to make me let you go!” Arthur practically ground his teeth when he said that. His eyes were a chaotic mix of love and hate. Yet, before I could even say a single word, he would turn and leave. His retreating silhouette looked almost pathetic, carrying a sense of panicked escape. Back then, the system would comfort me, saying, “You and Arthur have so much history. He will eventually realize he’s wrong.” I didn’t say anything. Because I knew Arthur too well. When he loves, he loves to the absolute extreme. And when he hates, he hates just as deeply. And the person who destroyed everything we had… Was me. It was the night of my birthday. Arthur and I had drank quite a bit of wine, but he had to step away to handle an urgent corporate crisis. I sat alone under the cherry blossom tree, continuing to drink. At that point, Arthur’s love for me was about to reach 100%, meaning I would soon complete my mission and leave. I had spent ten years watching an outcast, illegitimate son claw his way out of the mud to become the ruthless CEO of an empire. He trusted me, and he loved me. Fighting against the entire board of directors, he insisted on making me his wife, declaring I would be the only woman he ever loved. His unconditional, unreserved love for me slowly eroded my defenses over the years. Inevitably, I fell in love with Arthur—the man whose entire heart belonged to me. And because of that, I couldn’t bear to leave him. The system saw right through me. It warned me, “This is just a game. Do not let yourself get emotionally attached.” A game? But it felt so real. I could feel the warmth of Arthur’s skin. I could feel his frantic heartbeat and pure joy every single time he confessed his love to me. He was a living, breathing person. A man I had stayed beside since childhood, a man I poured all my love into. From the time Arthur was seven, I stayed by his side as a lowly servant in his oppressive family estate. Because he was an unrecognized, illegitimate child, his half-brothers constantly bullied him. Even the hired help dared to abuse him. His living conditions were worse than mine as a servant; he was shoved into an unheated, decaying attic. I did everything in my power to treat him well. I gave him the meat I scraped together my wages to buy, while I chewed on dry bread. I shielded him from the malicious schemes of his father’s other wives, protecting him as he grew up. The way he looked at me shifted from initial icy suspicion to an overwhelming, all-consuming love. Eventually, I became the only person in the entire world he could rely on. At first, yes, I only treated him well to complete my mission. My feelings weren’t pure. But over time, we survived so many life-or-death situations together. The boy grew into a man, and he started throwing himself in front of danger to protect me. He shielded me from corporate assassinations and family betrayals. Even when his own life was hanging by a thread, he never once considered abandoning me. Even when the ultimate prize—the CEO position of the entire empire—was dangled in front of him, if I was in danger, he would choose me. I asked him why. He smiled, gentle but absolutely resolute. “Because there is only one Chloe. We promised to be together forever.” He carved that promise so deeply into his soul that it eventually became the very reason for our downfall. There was a time when he took a bullet meant for me, nearly dying on the operating table. Watching Arthur lying unconscious in the ICU, my heart physically ached. It was only then that I realized I couldn’t live without him either. I fell in love with this boy who thought of nothing but me. He gave me the absolute best of everything he had, pouring every ounce of his love into me. So how could I treat this like a game? Pain and inner conflict consumed my mind, which was why I drank so heavily that night. And the greatest regret of my life… was getting drunk and blurting out that I was a system “player.” Rambling under the influence of alcohol, I spilled everything. I didn’t even remember exactly who I was anymore. Arthur found out I was a player. He found out that once I acquired 100% of his love, I would be forced to leave this world forever. He asked me, “Can you stay?” I shook my head. I couldn’t stay. From beginning to end, this was a dead end. He stayed silent, and then the rage took over. He pinned me against the bed, his hands gripping my shoulders, his eyes bloodshot as he screamed like a madman. He said, “Chloe, we swore our vows. We stood before the altar. You are never leaving me in this lifetime!” I didn’t want to leave either. For a player to fall in love with their target… It is the ultimate tragedy. Because the moment he fully surrendered his heart to me, it meant we would have to be torn apart. Arthur couldn’t accept it. He felt deeply betrayed. Because we had promised each other we would never leave. But my “forever” couldn’t be his “forever.” The moment the mission was completed, my life in this world would terminate. I would leave before him, abandoning him in an endless, lonely world. So that night, he violently tore off my clothes, kissing me with terrifying aggression, desperately trying to anchor me to him forever. He said, “Chloe, let’s have a baby. If we have a child, you wouldn’t be able to leave me, right?” But the brutal truth is, a player can never get pregnant. There could never be a biological tie between us. The moment the mission was completed, everything connecting me to this world would simply vanish. He couldn’t keep me. The candles in the bedroom burned all night. The next morning, I woke up to find him standing by the bed, fully dressed. He pressed a highly restrained kiss to my forehead. His eyes were filled with uncontrollable love, mixed with an insane, dark possessiveness. He said, “Chloe, I promise I will find a way to keep you.” That morning, I finally realized what I had confessed while drunk. I was consumed by regret, but it was too late. I originally thought he would be terrified, thinking I was some kind of monster, and distance himself or even try to kill me. I never expected that his only thought would be how to trap me here. I was just as agonizingly torn. I wanted to complete the mission and survive, but I also wanted to stay with the man I loved. But the system told me there was only one path: finish the mission. If I completed it, I could leave. But if I failed, I would face an unknown, terrifying punishment. From the very start, it was a dead end. Arthur and I were destined by fate to never be together. But Arthur refused to accept fate. He tried countless methods, but he couldn’t stop the love in his heart from growing. As long as I stood in front of him, his love for me would incrementally increase. And when it hit 100%, I would disappear before his very eyes. To love someone to the absolute extreme, only to be forced to watch them vanish into thin air. That love itself became a curse. So he made a decision— He locked me away. From the moment he decided to lock me in the abandoned manor, our relationship was permanently shattered. A heavy iron gate separated us. And it severed the decade of deep love we shared. “Chloe, I will fight God himself if I have to. I swear I will keep you.” At first, Arthur came to see me every day. But every time he got close, he couldn’t control the violent surge of love in his heart. So I don’t know exactly when, but Arthur stopped coming every day. Even when he did visit the manor, he would just stand in silence, staring at me for a few minutes, before ruthlessly turning and walking away. And then, his love for me stabilized. It froze at a specific threshold, and never moved again. At that point, he only came to see me once every six months. He always came in the dead of night, so I never actually saw him. The system told me, “When you fall asleep, he sits by your bed. He reaches out to touch you, but the second his fingers brush your face, his love meter starts to spike. Arthur’s face instantly turns cold, and he forces himself to leave.” What was my reaction when I heard that? I probably offered a bitter smile, stared at the hairpin he gave me years ago, and fell into silence. This bizarre, suffocating stalemate lasted for a long time. Until Harper arrived. This woman, who looked 70% like me, was instantly favored by Arthur the moment she entered his corporate orbit, becoming his most cherished companion. At first, the system tried to comfort me: “She’s just a cheap knockoff. Arthur isn’t blind; he won’t actually fall for her.” But then Harper got sick, and Arthur stayed up all night taking care of her. He personally fed her medicine and coaxed her to sleep. Those were things he used to do exclusively for me. He once said, “The only person in the world I would ever do this for is my Chloe.” But now, he was giving that special, exclusive treatment to another woman. Liar! The system chimed in again: “Maybe it’s just pity because she has your face.” A 70% resemblance is rare. Harper, who gained his favor purely because of that face, obviously knew exactly why she was chosen. So she tried even harder to mimic me. She wore the red dresses I used to love, applied her makeup exactly in my style, and perfected every single micro-expression and smile I had. Dressed as my flawless replica, she went to see Arthur. A 70% similar face, a 100% similar style. The ice in Arthur’s eyes was chipped away bit by bit. The way he looked at Harper slowly became tender and loving. He would gently stroke her face and say in the softest voice, “My Harper, you’re so beautiful.” And then, Harper would giggle and throw herself into his arms. Eventually, Harper moved into my old master suite in the penthouse. Arthur slowly drowned in her gentle affection. Fueled by his resentment toward me, he poured every ounce of his romantic feelings into another woman. It was as if only by doing this could he keep his love for me frozen at a specific number, ensuring it would never change. Because his love was being drained elsewhere, his heart regarding me could remain completely numb. Finally, late one night, a drunk Arthur looked at Harper—who now looked almost identical to me—and lost all restraint. He carried her to my old bed, and they spent the night tangled together. I asked the system if it had anything else to say. It stayed silent, then asked if I wanted to leave this world. “Can I even leave?” Arthur had spent all his time tangled up with Harper lately, completely forgetting to check on me. No one knew I had fallen severely ill. Sunlight poured through the window. I tried to reach out and touch it, but my illness had grown so severe I didn’t even have the strength to sit up. “Chloe. Let’s abandon this mission.” When the system spoke, its voice sounded like it was crying. The system that used to care about nothing but completing missions had finally given up hope, just like me. During these seven years of imprisonment, terrified of the unknown punishment for failure, neither of us was willing to be the first to say “abandon.” But dragging it out until now felt worse than death itself. “Abandon the mission. Even though we don’t know what the punishment is… whatever it is, it has to be better than being locked in a cage for the rest of my life.” Seeing my silence, the system added, “Let’s go see him in person. One last time.” The unknown punishment might completely annihilate my consciousness, erasing my existence across all three thousand dimensions. So seeing him one last time would serve as a final, tragic period to this romance. Using its core energy, the system extracted my soul and transported me out of the manor. I arrived at Arthur’s master suite. The layout hadn’t changed much in seven years. Except… the walls that used to be covered in paintings and photos of me had all been replaced by portraits of Harper. I felt a profound wave of sadness. The teenage boy who used to hug my waist, whining that he wanted to cover his entire room with my pictures, had truly vanished forever. Soft rustling sounds drifted through the room. Through the silk curtains, I could see two figures rolling in the bedsheets. Harper leaned against his chest like she had no bones, her eyes hazy with lust, adding a playful, teasing charm. Arthur held her, leaving devout, reverent kisses all over her face. “Harper, your face is so incredibly beautiful.” Harper smiled even brighter, her delicate hands tracing his chest. “Am I more beautiful, or is Chloe more beautiful?” Mentioning my name in Arthur’s presence used to be the ultimate taboo. But Harper was so favored she had already moved into my old room and usurped everything that used to belong to me. But human greed knows no bounds. She had his exclusive favor, but she wanted all of his love. Yet everyone in Arthur’s inner circle knew exactly how deeply he loved me. He loved me enough that, during a hostile corporate takeover, he was willing to surrender the entire empire just to ensure my safety. He loved me enough that when I was poisoned by a rival, he was the only one willing to test the untested antidotes on himself. He loved me enough that if I shed a single tear, he would hate himself for days, believing he had failed to protect me. How could a boy who loved me that much… fall in love with someone else? I couldn’t understand it. “Seven years can change a lot of things. I just didn’t expect that love turning to hate could be this terrifying.” The system’s voice was just as depressed as mine. I originally thought Arthur would be furious she mentioned me, but he wasn’t. He just paused for a second, then rolled over, pinning the beauty beneath him. Kissing her cheek, he whispered, “You’re more beautiful.” A single, uncontrollable tear slid down my ghostly cheek. “System… I didn’t know souls could cry.” I reached up, wiped the tear, and tasted it. It didn’t actually taste like anything, but I felt an overwhelming, agonizing bitterness in my heart. “Stop looking. Chloe, let’s abandon it. Who cares about the punishment? I’ll be with you forever.” The system was crying. It even tried to cover my eyes. But it was just a string of data existing in my mind; the most emotion it could muster was pity for me. I nodded slowly. “System. I give up. Declare the mission a failure.” All that bone-deep, unforgettable love could never outweigh the sheer agony of witnessing this with my own eyes. He imprisoned me in the name of love, and now he was stabbing me to death with it. Every single injury inflicted in the name of love only brutally grinded down the last remaining affection I had for him. Neither of us knew what punishment awaited a failed mission. It was the terror of that unknown that had forced me to endure seven years of torture. But now, I truly couldn’t endure it for another second. “The absolute worst-case scenario is deletion,” the system sobbed. “It’s okay. If we get deleted, I’ll go down with you.” That’s nice. At least I still have the system. 03 The price for failing the mission was being permanently trapped in this world as a wandering spirit. I would be ground down by the passage of time, slowly forgetting who I was, until I became a truly isolated, hollow ghost. And because of Arthur’s obsessive entanglement with me while I was alive, I was physically forced to remain tethered to his side. The system was furious on my behalf. “You suffered so much torture because of him while you were alive, and now that you’re dead you’re forced to watch him be all lovey-dovey with another woman?!” “Chloe, did you dig up someone’s ancestors in a past life? Why is your luck in this life so utterly tragic?” I had been feeling deeply depressed, but hearing that, I couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe I really did do a lot of terrible things in a past life. So this time, God was stepping in to punish me. I was forced to follow Arthur everywhere. The sun was bright outside by the time he finally got out of bed. Harper was still fast asleep, her face flushed red, covered in dark bruises and marks. Arthur glanced at her, his eyes overflowing with gentle love, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He used to do that exact same thing to me every morning. I had asked him why. He said, “Waking up every morning and seeing the person I love lying next to me… it’s the greatest happiness in the world.” What was my reaction back then? Like a lovestruck teenager, I pulled the blanket over my head to hide my blushing face. Then he would pull me into a tight hug, coaxing me softly. The maids who came in to serve us would blush and quietly leave the room, and he would kiss me again. And finally, he would whisper, “My Chloe, you’re the best.” Now, he was taking everything he used to do for me and doing it to another woman. How pathetic. My thoughts snapped back to the present. Even as a ghost, my chest ached agonizingly. Those endless nights of intimacy had become the dullest, rustiest blade, slowly sawing into my heart every single second. I couldn’t bleed, but the pain was constant. As Arthur got out of bed to dress, his personal assistant immediately stepped forward to hand him a meticulously crafted cologne sachet to tie to his belt. “Where is the old one?” He suddenly spoke. I couldn’t help but look at the newly swapped sachet on his waist. The stitching was flawless, the embroidery beautiful. It was thousands of times better than the one I had made. The assistant knelt on the floor, trembling. “Miss Harper said the old one was too worn out and the craftsmanship was terrible, so she ordered me to throw it away.” Terrible? I stayed up for three nights straight, pricking all ten of my fingers until they bled, just to finish that sachet. It held all my love, and it contained a protective charm I had walked miles to a remote temple to pray for. To get that charm, I knelt and bowed every single step up the mountain until my knees were swollen and bleeding. Arthur had promised me he would keep it on him for the rest of his life. People who break their promises get long noses like Pinocchio. The system defended me indignantly. “Exactly! The sachet our Chloe made is the absolute best!” I threw a punch straight at Arthur’s face. But since I was just a ghost, my fist just generated a weak gust of cold air. Suddenly, Arthur exploded in fury. He kicked the assistant violently in the chest. “Who gave you permission to decide that?! Go find it right now!” The assistant’s face turned deathly pale. Ignoring the pain, he scrambled to dig through the trash until he found the sachet I had embroidered, and frantically tied it back onto Arthur’s belt. “If he doesn’t love you anymore, why does he insist on wearing it? What the hell is going through his head?” The system couldn’t understand it. It decided it needed to read more romance novels to expand its database on human psychology. I didn’t understand it either, but I couldn’t say that out loud. Otherwise, the system would mock me, saying a string of data understood human emotions better than I did. Arthur stared at the sachet in his hand, looking strangely lost in thought. Despite his careful preservation, after seven years, the sachet was completely frayed and worn out. Just like our relationship. It could never be repaired. His grip on the sachet tightened, and his expression turned terrifyingly cold. “How is she doing in the abandoned manor?” Before the assistant could even open his mouth, the system sarcastically chimed in: “Not much, just rotting and smelling bad.” Me: … “I… I don’t know, sir.” The assistant knelt on the floor, knocking his head against the ground repeatedly, completely unable to hide the sheer terror in his eyes. If Arthur refused to visit me personally, how would any of his staff dare to sneak over there? Everyone knew exactly what happened to the last housekeeper. The staff were so traumatized that they would probably never step within a mile of that manor for the rest of their lives. No one dared to cross Arthur’s absolute boundaries. The ruthless CEO standing before me had long ago shed the gentle, warm facade of his youth. Bloodthirsty and brutal—that was who he truly was now. Arthur delivered another vicious kick to the assistant’s chest, cursed him for being an idiot, and stormed out. The assistant coughed up blood, but not a single person dared to step forward to help him. “I really don’t recognize him anymore.” The system agreed. “Me neither. I watched you two grow up together. Back then, even though Arthur was a loner, he would never slaughter innocent people. Now… he’s genuinely terrifying.” I floated behind him, watching the direction he was walking, and guessed where he was going. “When he walks into the manor and sees my corpse… what kind of face do you think he’ll make?” I was suddenly incredibly curious. Would it be the cold indifference of a stranger? The agonizing, heart-shattering grief of a deeply devoted lover? Or would he feel a sick, euphoric satisfaction, driven purely by hatred? I was dying to know. So I followed Arthur, drifting slowly toward the manor where I had been imprisoned for seven years. 04 The abandoned manor was heavily guarded. A single glance showed how terrifyingly desolate it still was. The occasional howling wind rattled the broken window panes, creating an eerie, ghostly creaking sound. Even the guards stationed outside looked incredibly uneasy. After all, this was widely rumored to be the most haunted place on the entire estate. The moment Arthur appeared, all the guards immediately dropped to their knees. Someone rushed forward to unlock the heavy iron gates. As the rusted hinges shrieked open, I floated beside Arthur, stepping back into the prison I had lived in for seven years. But the moment he crossed the threshold, Arthur stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to another assistant beside him and viciously kicked him in the chest. “I ordered you to maintain this place! Is this how you maintain it?!” I followed his gaze. Because no one had stepped foot inside for so long, the massive oak tree in the courtyard had dropped a thick layer of dead leaves that no one bothered to sweep. The layer was so thick that even stepping on it produced a loud crunch. Weeds grew wildly through the cracks in the stone pathways, and thick spider webs coated the corners of the building. The assistant knelt on the ground begging for mercy. Even though it was entirely Arthur’s fault. “What an absolute hypocrite! If he actually gave a damn about you, Chloe, he wouldn’t have let you rot in this shithole for seven years!” The system raged on my behalf. Lately, Arthur had spent all his time with Harper, never once coming to see me. These snobby, opportunistic assistants naturally assumed the boss had forgotten about me, so why would they waste their energy maintaining the place? In the end, it was all because Arthur had moved on to someone else. How hilarious. But before Arthur could push the front door open, a maid came sprinting frantically toward us. She dropped to her knees and gasped, “Sir! Miss Harper… she’s pregnant.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “440987”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When we were taking photos in the snow, my boyfriend suddenly gave me a shoulder throw just to make his high school crush smile. “Just a joke! Look at your silly face, haha!” That day, his crush gave her most beautiful smile, while I broke my right arm and could never hold a scalpel again. Later, he was diagnosed with a rare disease, and the only doctor in the country who could perform the necessary surgery was me. The moment he threw me over his shoulder to please his crush, he threw his own life away. 01 It rarely snowed heavily in Seattle. After lunch, a few colleagues and I were strolling around the hospital grounds when we bumped into Audrey Miller taking photos of the snow. Back in medical school, she was famously known as the “Ice Queen”—her personality even colder than the surgical scalpels she wielded. She had never smiled. She was the goddess of many underclassmen and upperclassmen alike. “Dr. Miller!” A male colleague called out to her, handing her a coffee to warm her hands. “It’s freezing out here. Why are you all by yourself?” “Thanks, I don’t like crowds.” Audrey turned away indifferently, her pale skin looking as if it had been dusted with a thin layer of frost in the sunlight. Everyone wanted to take a group photo under a tree, so I pulled out my phone to act as the photographer. Bending over to find the right angle and distance, I counted down with my fingers: “Three, two…” On the last second of the countdown, a rush of wind swept past my ear. My boyfriend, Noah Davis, appeared out of nowhere. Laughing loudly, he hoisted me up while I was bent over and brutally slammed me down with a shoulder throw, right shoulder first! Thud! “Look at your silly face, hahaha!” I sank deep into the snow. The impact against the tree trunk hidden beneath the snow caused the branches to tremble slightly, sending a flurry of snowflakes drifting down like a fairy tale. For the first time ever, Audrey broke into a radiant smile, stunning everyone. 02 Why did Noah do this to me? Did he deliberately humiliate me just to coax a smile out of Audrey? What did I do wrong? My brain was completely blank for a few seconds. By the time the feelings of grievance and anger surged up, I realized my entire right shoulder was numb. I had completely lost feeling in my right arm, and when I tried to speak, only a sob came out. “Help…” “Wow, Audrey, this photo of you is so beautiful! I’ve known you for seven years and this is the first time I’ve seen you smile!” Noah had snatched my phone and was enthusiastically showing the photo to everyone like he was presenting a treasure. “Yeah, Dr. Miller, you really should smile more. You’re so beautiful!” “Noah, hurry up and help your girlfriend up. How could you do that?” Noah laughed, saying it was fine, and crouched down to dig me out of the snow. “Chloe’s a prankster offline too. We’re always messing with each other like bros. She’s fine…” His words came to a screeching halt when he met my dull, lifeless eyes. Digging further, he saw my unnaturally twisted right arm and immediately panicked. 03 “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Chloe! I was just joking with you…” My right shoulder had been pierced by a tree root, bleeding profusely. I was rushed into the ER. The Chief of Surgery and the Vice President of the hospital, who had just gotten off a grueling shift, both turned pale when they saw me and hurried in one after another to assist in the emergency operation. Noah gripped my left hand tightly, the corners of his eyes red. He wiped the snowflakes off my face over and over again, trembling uncontrollably in a panic. He was stopped outside the operating room. In the last second before the doors closed, I looked at him calmly and said one word: “Get lost.” 04 When I woke up in my hospital room, Audrey was asking the nurse about my medication from the previous night. The room was filled with a cloying scent. The sickly sweet smell of her floral essential oil even overpowered the smell of disinfectant. Next to my pillow was Audrey’s phone, the screen still illuminated. She had posted that group snow photo on her Instagram. Noah was the first to like and comment: [You really should smile more. You look beautiful when you smile.] I stared blankly for a few seconds. My gaze then fell on the medical chart next to the phone. Whether out of carelessness or malice, my chart had been casually tossed there by Audrey. I’m a surgeon too; I understand what the chart says. My right hand would never be able to hold a scalpel again. 05 The sound of pages turning was exceptionally loud. Audrey glanced back at me, coldly snatched the chart away, and didn’t say a word. Even though we went to the same med school and now worked in the same hospital, we weren’t close. Audrey rarely talked to men, and she completely ignored women. We had nothing to say to each other. “Is Chloe awake? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Noah’s voice shattered the silence of the hospital room. He had just come off an all-night surgery. His handsome face was covered in sweat. His tall frame cautiously approached the bed, and he grasped my hand through the blanket. “I really just wanted to joke around with you. I’m sorry, Chloe.” “I’ve already called your mom and dad. Don’t worry!” “…You just have a fracture. We’ll do a minor surgery in a few days. Our Chief of Surgery will operate personally, and I’ll be there too. Your right hand will definitely recover!” Noah’s voice trembled at the end. Like a lost, helpless child, he kept his head down, stroking my fingers over and over again. Seeing that I wasn’t speaking, he gave a stiff smile and tremblingly pulled a velvet box from his pocket. “Oh right, look at my memory! Actually, yesterday, I wanted to propose to you.” 06 I hadn’t noticed when Audrey slipped out of the room. Noah’s eyes were burning with intensity, looking at me with deep affection: “Seattle has never seen such beautiful snow. I wanted to take advantage of it to propose to you… I wanted to make you mad first and then surprise you. You know, like the videos online. I really was just joking! I’m an idiot, I’m so stupid, I promise there won’t be a next time!” But inside the box was a very ordinary ring, showing no signs of careful preparation. Did he expect me to believe him? Noah grabbed my numb right hand: “Marry me, Chloe.” The silence in the room was terrifying. It felt like I could hear every single drop of IV fluid falling into the chamber. Suddenly, I laughed. Noah visibly let out a sigh of relief. He eagerly pressed his cheek into my palm, nuzzling it like a puppy trying to act cute and seek forgiveness. “Look at your silly face.” I used my uninjured left hand to grab his hair, my eyes turning icy cold: “You’re still thinking about proposing at a time like this? Go to the police station and make a statement first. You’ve committed assault.” “You made me angry just to propose? Stop making excuses for your mistakes. At that moment, you only wanted to humiliate me to make your goddess smile. Do you think I’m stupid?” “Furthermore, the people you should be apologizing to the most are my patients. They waited so long for a chance to have surgery. The highly specialized procedure they need can only be performed by me and our 96-year-old retired professor in the entire country. Now that my hand is ruined, who’s going to help them?” 07 Noah opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, so overwhelmed by guilt after his lie was exposed that he couldn’t speak. The quiet room was left to me alone. The water stains on the ceiling, caused by the melting snow, were slowly spreading, much like my own future—lost and without direction. I closed my eyes, and the hopeful faces of my patients quickly flashed through my mind. How was I going to explain this to them? “Noah, honestly, this isn’t your fault. No one can predict accidents. Chloe is just a young girl, she needs a bit more coaxing. She’ll be fine once she thinks it through.” Hearing the voice, my eyes snapped open. Audrey was standing outside my room, consoling Noah. “I guess this is why I don’t like getting close to anyone. I could never take my anger out on innocent people. Should you unconditionally blame your boyfriend just because he’s your boyfriend? I really look down on women who throw unreasonable tantrums like that.” I thought I was hallucinating. What kind of nonsense was Audrey spouting? Noah sighed heavily, his voice hoarse: “You’re right, Audrey. I understand what you mean. Regardless, I’ll take all the blame. I love her, and I can’t be as clear-headed and rational as you.” “You care about Chloe a lot too, don’t you? Staying here in the room to keep an eye on her. I thank you on her behalf. You should go back and get some rest.” Through the gaps in the blinds, I could vaguely see Audrey standing in front of Noah. Noah helplessly rubbed his face, and finally, with a reverent and gentle motion, he leaned against Audrey— “Thank you, Audrey.” … Expressionless, I picked up the phone: “Hello, 911? I was maliciously assaulted by a male colleague, and I suspect attempted murder!” 08 Noah and I met in college. If there was anything about him that won my heart, it was probably his sincerity—his ultimate weapon. He held nothing back with me and always took my side unconditionally, like a silly, clumsy puppy that loved wagging its tail at its owner. I didn’t have to question his true feelings; I just needed to slowly teach him how to love, how to navigate a relationship… But now, I no longer wanted to accompany a boy as he grew up. He could give his heart to me, but his soul would always lean toward that sacred, pure goddess. He made me sick. My parents rushed to the police station. After learning what happened, they strongly supported my decision. What kind of joke involves executing a flawless shoulder throw on your girlfriend without hesitation? He destroyed my future. And he had the audacity to blatantly lie to my parents afterward: He claimed I accidentally slipped in the hospital and injured my arm. 09 Faced with all my accusations, Noah didn’t say a single word in his defense and accepted whatever punishment was coming. In the end, it was the Hospital President and the Chief of Surgery who stepped forward to mediate, hoping the situation wouldn’t blow up. Noah would face an indefinite suspension, and lawyers would negotiate a financial settlement out of court, all to avoid jail time and protect the hospital’s reputation. Moreover, my 96-year-old mentor was hospitalized and in a coma, and no one wanted to agitate the old man with a massive scandal. An out-of-court settlement was fine. Noah had better get his money ready. The hospital quickly arranged for my surgery, telling me to focus solely on recovering my right hand and not to worry about anything else. But on my very first day hospitalized, a huge argument erupted at the nurses’ station over mandatory overtime. With two surgeons out of commission, all schedules and surgeries had to be reshuffled, drastically increasing everyone’s workload. Audrey, passing by during her rounds, stopped in front of the nurses’ station and said coldly: “Complaining won’t solve anything. You nurses are tired, but aren’t the doctors tired too?” “It was clearly just an accident. It’s Dr. Williams throwing a tantrum and escalating the situation that caused her boyfriend to be suspended. You can’t blame anyone else.” “Don’t mind me being blunt; I’m just telling the truth.” 10 The staff at the nurses’ station were stunned. Not having been at the scene, not knowing the full story, and hearing this from Audrey—the usually aloof “goddess” who hated gossip—made her words naturally convincing. Audrey turned to leave, but I quickly rushed up and grabbed her wrist— “Dr. Miller, if you have something to say, say it directly instead of making passive-aggressive remarks. What do you mean I escalated the situation?” “Let’s get this straight: I am the victim here! If it were any of you, and your boyfriend threw you for no reason, fracturing your arm so badly you could never hold a scalpel again, and then tried to pass it off as ‘just a joke’ or ‘an accident,’ wouldn’t you be angry? Wouldn’t you demand accountability? If not, you must be actual saints!” The nurses’ expressions shifted. I pulled up the group photo and placed my phone on the desk: “Dr. Miller was there when it happened. When Noah threw me, you smiled more radiantly than ever! What were you thinking? Were you really that happy?” Audrey swayed slightly, her teeth biting hard into her lower lip, the color draining from her face. Just as she was about to speak, a strong force suddenly pushed me away from behind. Noah stepped between us, shielding Audrey behind him. “Chloe, Audrey doesn’t understand these petty squabbles between women! Just drop it. Everything that happened is my fault.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “440986”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was with Caleb for ten years. I tattooed his favorite flower, a gardenia, on my collarbone. When he finally agreed to marry me, he was keeping an 18-year-old girl on the side. Before our wedding, he indulged in her “breakup countdown.” He took her bungee jumping, skiing, and flew her to Iceland to see the Northern Lights. But he didn’t know I was dying. I booked a flight out of the country, donated his entire net worth, and got my tattoos lasered off. While he was counting down the days to our wedding, I was planning my escape. 01 On the day I was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer, the young girl Caleb was keeping on the side came to find me. “I know I’m the other woman.” The girl’s opening line was terrifyingly earnest. She bit her lip. “I know you guys are getting married soon, but—” “Caleb doesn’t love you anymore.” “I’ve been with him for a year. We’ve slept together seventy-eight times. Fifty-three times in hotels, twenty-one times at my place.” “And four times at your house, in your bed.” 她 looked at me bluntly. “If Caleb still loved you, I wouldn’t even exist.” I found it almost funny. I lit a cigarette, looking at her through the haze of smoke. “What else? Keep going.” So she pulled out her phone and played a video for me. The angle was hidden, like it was secretly recorded. The girl was curled up in Caleb’s arms, crying. “Even if you have to marry her out of responsibility, can you please not abandon me?” Caleb pushed her away gently and tossed a bank card onto the table. “Find a stable guy. Being with me is no good for you. It’s too dangerous.” “No!” She wrapped her arms around his waist, pouting. “I’m not afraid of danger.” “Can you please not throw me away?” “Caleb, I won’t be a burden to you. I swear.” Caleb froze for a second. His gaze swept across her face, and for a brief moment, he looked completely lost. Then, he leaned in and kissed her. 02 I stubbed out my cigarette. The girl was exactly eighteen. Her face was full of youthful collagen; she was genuinely pure and innocent. And, the very first time I saw her, I knew. She looked like me. She looked exactly like the eighteen-year-old Tara. “You’re right about one thing. If Caleb still loved me, you wouldn’t exist.” I stood up. My stomach was actually throbbing in pain. I leaned against the table, careful not to show it. “But I advise you not to fall too deep. Caleb has never loved you, nor does he love me.” “He only loves the Tara from his memories.” The pure, beautiful Tara who died years ago on the bloody path helping him rise to the top. “In a few years, he’ll find a new replacement, and you’ll end up even more miserable than me.” I was actually lying to her. I was about to die. How could she possibly end up more miserable than me? At worst, she’d just get dumped when Caleb got bored of her. 03 I gave myself to Caleb when I was eighteen. I grew up without parents. The grandmother who raised me passed away when I was fifteen. Caleb appeared right around then. He pursued me fiercely. He threw money around recklessly, wanting to lay the best of everything in the world at my feet. He was handsome, and he gave me a profound sense of security. I fell for him fast. On my nineteenth birthday, he coaxed me into tasting the forbidden fruit. That night. From pain to complete surrender. I became entirely his. The next day, Caleb took me to meet his crew. I had never been exposed to a scene like that. I timidly held onto his jacket, quietly greeting everyone as he introduced me. The way they looked at me was full of mockery. “Caleb, why’d you get yourself such a little girl?” “She’s too sweet. She’s gonna be a liability.” Back then, I didn’t know what “liability” meant to them. I couldn’t help but defend myself quietly, “I won’t be.” “I won’t be a burden to Caleb.” I swore it. But later, as I slowly integrated into his world, I realized exactly what kind of life he led. It was a life lived on the edge of a knife. To avoid being a burden, to be able to stand by his side, I forced myself to adapt to that brutal environment. Ten years. I cut my hair short. I dyed it. I started smoking. I got tattoos. I even collected countless scars across my body. Because I was ruthless enough, I helped Caleb climb to become the second-in-command of the Chicago underworld. But Caleb didn’t seem happy. Countless nights. He would hold me in his arms, his fingers tracing the scars on my body, leaning down to kiss them. “Tara.” He would bury his face in my chest and sigh. “I still prefer the way you used to be.” And after a moment of stunned silence, I would always push him away, light a cigarette, and laugh. “Caleb, saying that is a real dick move.” 04 It was past midnight when Caleb came home. I was lying in bed. I wasn’t asleep. I was just staring into the darkness. Until Caleb pulled me into his arms. “Not asleep yet?” He leaned down to kiss me, but I dodged. He froze for a second, then suppressed his temper and hugged me. “Who pissed you off? I’ll go chop them up right now, okay?” “Caleb.” “Yeah.” The room was so dark I couldn’t see his face. But I could smell the gardenia perfume lingering on his clothes. “Let’s break up.” Caleb stiffened. Then he let go, rolling over to lie on his back next to me. “What is it now?” He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “You’re not a little girl anymore. Why are you acting so dramatic?” “Break up?” He chuckled. “Tara, you’re not young anymore. Who else is going to marry a woman who smokes, drinks, has tattoos, and handles business more ruthlessly than most men?” My chest seized. I pressed my hand hard against my heart, but I couldn’t suppress the dense, agonizing pain. Last year, when my arm got sliced open, I was allergic to the local anesthesia. Twelve stitches, completely raw, and I gritted my teeth without making a single sound. But Caleb’s drunken truths made my eyes burn with tears. “Caleb,” I couldn’t help but ask, “if I got a terminal illness, would you…” “Tara.” He cut me off, irritation clear in his voice. “Stop asking stupid questions.” “If you get a terminal illness, I’ll commit suicide with you. Happy?” He rubbed his temples. “I’m busy with the wedding and business lately. I don’t have the energy to coax you. Stop throwing tantrums.” Just then, his phone rang. Caleb rejected the call in frustration. But the person called back again. After a few rounds of this, Caleb got out of bed with his phone. “Speak.” A girl’s crying voice filtered through the receiver, muffled but audible. Caleb cursed under his breath. “So fucking annoying.” Despite saying that, he quickly grabbed his coat and headed for the door. “There’s a problem with the business. I have to go handle it.” “Go to sleep. Don’t wait up for me.” 05 Caleb and I set our wedding date for the third of next month. A simple ceremony. I never told Caleb about my illness. Late-stage. Basically incurable. I also never told him that I had zero intention of marrying him. I could accept everything about Caleb. Everything except betrayal. Just thinking about him holding another woman, kissing her face, searching for the shadow of my youth in her… it made my stomach churn. It made me sick. I gave myself to him at eighteen. It had been exactly ten years. Now, the doctors said I had about six months left to live. Looking back, I wasted the best years of my life on him. For the little time I had left, I just wanted to be Tara. I booked a flight out of the country. I wanted to use whatever strength I had left to see the world I loved but had never actually explored. And I booked that flight for the third of next month. 06 Early in the morning, I crossed out another day on the calendar. Ten days left until my flight. The sound of the front door opening came from behind me. Caleb walked in, bringing the winter chill with him. He took off his coat and walked over to hug me. He still didn’t like my short hair. His eyes followed mine to the calendar. Seeing the date heavily circled on the third, he chuckled and gently pinched my cheek. “Can’t wait to marry me?” He counted. “Ten days left.” He buried his face in my neck. “I’ll make time in the next couple of days to go with you to dye your hair black again, maybe get extensions?” “You’ll look beautiful at the wedding.” “No need.” I looked at the calendar blankly. “There’s not much time left.” “Short hair is fine.” Caleb stayed silent for a long moment. “Alright.” He let go, picking up the coat he had draped over the chair. “There’s a lot to do for the wedding. Mack’s turf got smashed up yesterday. I’m busy, so I won’t be coming home for a while.” Caleb stared at me as he spoke. Like he was waiting for me to yield. Waiting for me to say, Okay, come with me to dye my hair. Let’s get extensions. But I just stared back at him indifferently. “Go.” “Anyway, it’s only ten days.” Caleb didn’t say another word. He turned and walked back out into the dark. He never looked back. 07 With seven days left until the wedding, I went to a tattoo parlor on the outskirts of the city. The owner was a woman in her thirties, well-maintained but with eyes full of deep weariness. She glanced at me. “What are we doing?” I rolled up my sleeve, pointing to the “CS” on my wrist, and then exposed the gardenia below my collarbone. “Remove both of them.” She took a look. “Laser removal hurts. And it’ll scar.” I smiled. “I’m not afraid.” Pain was the last thing I was afraid of right now. As for scarring— I had so many scars all over my body, two more wouldn’t make a difference. Besides, in six months, this body would probably just be a pile of ash anyway. The owner chatted with me as she prepped. “Breakup?” I smiled. “Yeah. Soon.” “Seven days left.” She clicked her tongue. “So ceremonial. A breakup with a countdown?” Maybe the shop was just quiet, or maybe we just clicked, but the moment I saw her, I felt like we were the same kind of people. We talked about the past. When Caleb first pursued me, I gave him a deadline. Three hundred days. If he could stick it out, I’d be his. So, every single morning, Caleb would show up in front of me and count the days. “One hundred and seventy-nine days left.” “Tara, ninety-six days until you’re my girlfriend.” “One day left, future girlfriend.” … The boy who relentlessly pursued me for three hundred days through rain and shine… Had slowly grown tired of me over the next ten years. I hit it off with the owner. As she lasered off the ink, I told her the meaning behind the two tattoos. The “CS” on my wrist was done on our one-year anniversary. I had been kidnapped by a rival gang to threaten him. Caleb went to the drop alone to save me. He knew it was a suicide mission, but he went without hesitation. He was almost hacked to death that day. When he was discharged from the hospital, I went to a parlor and got his initials on my wrist. Back then, I naively thought I was locked in with Caleb for life. But that night, when I proudly showed Caleb my still-red, swollen wrist, he just froze. He didn’t give me the touched reaction I expected. He frowned, asked me why I did it, and asked if it hurt. Finally, he pulled me into his arms. “Don’t do this again. I don’t like it.” “I don’t like it when you hurt yourself.” “You’re perfect just the way you are. You don’t need to change. I love a clean, flawless Tara.” I was young then, and I just thought he was worried about me. I didn’t realize Caleb had actually spoken his true feelings. And the gardenia on my chest was tattooed the day Caleb swore he would marry me by the time I was twenty-eight. Caleb loved gardenias. He loved their pure, flawless white. So I tattooed one on my chest. Waiting for Caleb to marry me. Now, Caleb had finally set the wedding date for my twenty-eighth year. He was busy planning the wedding seven days away. While I was planning how to leave him. Even though my body was ruined, I still didn’t want to leave this world bearing any mark of him. I pointed to the other side of my collarbone and told the owner. “Tattoo a trumpet vine right here.” Caleb loved gardenias. But I preferred the trumpet vine. He wanted me pure and flawless. But in my final days, I insisted on being the wild, untamed vine climbing over the high walls.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “440985”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I married my murderer. After the wedding, I played the perfect, subservient wife. I always took off my makeup after he fell asleep and put it back on before he woke up. My husband bragged about it on his livestream, saying this is the self-awareness every woman should have. A viewer warned him in the chat: [Run. Only skinwalkers put on makeup in the middle of the night. The more their stolen skin rots, the thicker the makeup. It won’t be long before she changes skins and eats you!] I covered my face and smirked. Oops, forgot the concealer. The livor mortis is showing. 01 My husband is my murderer, but I don’t care. I was ten minutes late getting home from the grocery store. In front of tens of thousands of viewers on his livestream, Caleb roared at me, “Where the hell have you been? Go kneel in the corner!” As I obediently knelt, the viewers who used to be outraged had become numb. [A gorgeous girl with an abusive guy, and she even paid him a massive dowry just to marry him. What is wrong with the world!] [Making his wife dance in the snow in a swimsuit just for views. He’s the king of scumbags.] [Give up trying to save her. Lawyers have contacted her, but she won’t listen. She said she’s committed to this man for life. They’re locked in.] Caleb’s livestream was dedicated to filming me serving his entire family, finding new ways to humiliate me to farm views. By the time he allowed me to stand up, the foundation on my knees had rubbed off, exposing the terrifying, purplish-red livor mortis. Oops. I quickly covered it with my purse. Foundation meant for the living just doesn’t have the staying power. It rubs off easily, especially in the summer. Luckily, the camera didn’t catch it, and I calmly changed into a maxi skirt. On camera, my makeup was flawless, rivaling any influencer. Combined with my tireless, uncomplaining demeanor, the male viewers were bursting with envy, begging Caleb to share his “wife-taming” secrets. My husband shamelessly bragged, “Dealing with women, the key is to never give them an inch.” “I told her I like pretty women, and she’s never dared to be bare-faced in front of me! She always takes her makeup off after I’m asleep and puts it on before I wake up.” “As a wife, satisfying your husband’s visual needs is the most basic virtue!” Amidst the viewers’ praise and condemnation. A conspicuous message scrolled across the chat. [Your wife is a skinwalker. Only the dead put on makeup in the middle of the night.] [Does she only do her makeup at 3 AM? Because that’s when the yin energy is heaviest, making the makeup hold best!] 02 Caleb laughed uproariously. What kind of nonsense was this? The account was named “Mystic Fish,” and the bio said he was a novice occultist. The guy was persistent, continuing to type despite being mocked. [You’ve been married for three years, right? That’s a skinwalker’s limit. She’s been taking longer and longer to do her makeup lately, hasn’t she?] [Skinwalkers need human vitality to sustain themselves. Is she clinging to you 24/7, refusing to leave your side? Every time you’re intimate, you get sick right after.] This made Caleb pause. It was true. He was strong and healthy before the wedding, but since getting married, he’s been constantly dealing with minor illnesses. His wife was obsessed with his skin; once, when he burned himself with a cigarette, she almost cried in distress. [Almost cried, but no tears fell. Corpses can’t produce tears. Have you ever actually seen her cry?] No, he hadn’t. Caleb suddenly panicked a little. “Why should I believe you?” [Put a few drops of mugwort extract into her makeup remover tonight. Mugwort has strong yang energy. If a skinwalker uses it, their face will rot.] [Whether she’s human or a corpse, one test will tell.] 03 I gratefully accepted the makeup remover my husband gave me. Caleb stared at me for a long time before letting out a sigh of relief. “Look at this pathetic, desperate look. A skinwalker?” The young occultist remained dead serious. [The three of you—you, your wife, and your father—all have birthdays in the same month. That’s a rare aligned fate. If a skinwalker consumes you, it’s a massive power boost.] [In three days, on your birthday, that’s when the skinwalker will start the slaughter.] Caleb was an only child. After we married, we lived in his family’s custom-built house on the outskirts of town. My mother-in-law was famously cheap in the surrounding area. Any takeout Caleb couldn’t finish, she’d let it sit until it smelled sour before giving it to me. Every day, she’d “thoughtfully” leave me two small dishes: one plain boiled cabbage, one pickled radishes. “This is for your own good. Too much grease and you’ll get fat, and my son will definitely cheat on you!” I thanked her. After all, skinwalkers don’t have metabolisms, and our stomachs don’t digest. Eating too much meat makes the stench of death stronger. On Caleb’s last birthday, he surprisingly gave me a small piece of BBQ pork. I suppressed my disgust and ate it, then spent half the day throwing up, losing six months of my cultivation. While gnawing on the pickled radishes, I personally served the delicious food and drinks to my mother-in-law. Watching her increasingly plump figure, I felt a deep satisfaction. Fantasizing about the texture of her skin and flesh when harvest time comes, I swallowed hard to hold back my drool. “As long as you eat well, drink well, and are happy, that’s my greatest wish.” Mood directly affects the pH level of the meat, after all. In the middle of the night, after my husband fell asleep and started snoring, I tiptoed to the bathroom to remove my makeup. Girls, even dead ones, care about their appearance. My makeup routine takes a long time. After removing the patchy, caked-on foundation, fake eyelashes, and colored contacts, I have to do basic moisturizing to make the makeup last longer. After concealing the livor mortis, I use the “sandwich method” to set it. The moment the makeup wipe touched my face, a burning sensation hit me. Right then, I felt a chilling gaze staring at my back. I jerked my head around. The door, which I had locked, had been pushed open at some point. Caleb stood in the doorway, his face dark and menacing. “Audrey, turn around. Let me see your face.” 04 Skinwalkers lack the five senses. But I felt a faint sweat seeping from my pores all over my body. Before coming in, the occultist had DM’d Caleb. [Rub ox tears on your phone’s camera lens. It will let everyone see ghosts and monsters, forcing her to reveal her true form so she can’t hide!] Caleb didn’t really believe the occultist, but seeing the viewer count skyrocketing on his livestream… And the constant stream of digital gifts being thrown at him, he immediately stepped toward me, raising his voice: “Making a fuss every night! Is your bare face really that hideous?” Wearing my pajamas, I covered my face and sobbed, looking so wronged I might pass out. Many people in the chat told him to let it go, saying the occultist was definitely just making things up for clout. Caleb grabbed my cold wrist and roughly yanked my chin up. “The viewers paid! Even if I tell you to strip naked, you have to strip! Disobey me, and I’ll beat you to death right now!” Helpless, I slowly poured out the makeup remover. The moment I wiped it off, Caleb, and everyone in the livestream, held their breath. But the skin under the foundation remained flawlessly smooth and supple. Caleb’s tense expression instantly relaxed, and he started cursing the occultist for being a fraud. The chat joined in. [Tormenting people in the middle of the night, hasn’t the poor girl suffered enough!] [I bet the three of them are in on it together. Traffic is higher at 3 AM than during the day!] The young occultist pondered for three seconds, then realization struck. [I get it! Today is February 29th, a leap day! It’s hard to distinguish between yin and yang energies today. The skinwalker’s body will become no different from a normal human’s!] I was actually quite surprised. I didn’t know who this occultist’s master was, but he had some skills. He actually figured out my origins. [She’s not an ordinary skinwalker. She’s a vengeful corpse fueled by extreme resentment, so ordinary mugwort is useless against her.] His tone became deadly serious. [What exactly did you do to her to create such immense resentment?!] 05 Furious and embarrassed, Caleb blocked the occultist. To give himself an out, he feigned disgust at my bare face and warned me not to go out without makeup and scare people. I smiled and said, “Of course.” See, he had long forgotten this face. Forgotten the girl he strangled with his own hands four years ago. Well, it makes sense. That night was pitch black, it was raining in the woods, and I was beaten bloody and bruised during my struggle. My face was ruined. All four of my limbs were broken. When he was finally satisfied with his assault and locked his hands tightly around my neck… I was still begging pathetically: “Don’t kill me. I swear I won’t tell anyone… Please, my grandma is waiting for me…” Please, I’m a senior in college, and I just got accepted into a top grad program. I haven’t even told my grandma the good news yet. That little old lady scrimped and saved to put me through school. She ruined her eyes working but wouldn’t spend a dime to see a doctor. She hasn’t enjoyed a single day of comfort from her granddaughter. She really can’t afford to lose me. But Caleb just smirked lewdly and tightened his grip on my throat. My body convulsed uncontrollably, tears streamed down my face, and a sharp crack echoed from my cervical vertebrae. And just like that, I died. Right before I died, I thought I saw my grandma. Wearing her faded, washed-out thin coat, sitting eagerly at the yard gate, while my favorite beef and vermicelli buns steamed in the kitchen. She’d reheat them endlessly, always wanting her good granddaughter to have a hot meal the moment she got home. She didn’t know I had been discarded deep in the woods. Stripped of my dignity, my future, and my life. In the rotting stench, my resentment refused to dissipate, turning me into a monster that was neither human nor ghost—a skinwalker. When I used a new face to ask the matchmaker to arrange a marriage, she asked me what I was after. I smiled gently, acting shy, and said I just wanted him. I wanted him for this unending— Blood debt. 06 The Caleb family’s death day… no, birthdays were approaching. When I presented the family of three with clothes I tailored myself, Caleb’s face fell slightly. Because before the occultist was blocked, he had warned him. [If the skinwalker gives you clothes, do absolutely NOT wear them. They do that to make skinning you easier!] I didn’t move my eyes, just slowly turned my head, a smile forming on my lips: “Honey, why aren’t you trying it on?” Caleb secretly unblocked the occultist. [She’s giving you burial clothes! The cranes embroidered on clothes for the living have their wings folded down. Only burial clothes have cranes with open wings, symbolizing the soul flying to heaven!] The fans in the livestream were rolling their eyes: [Please, it’s called ‘modern vintage’. It’s super trendy right now.] Seeing that no one believed him, the young occultist got anxious: [Count the buttons! Burial clothes use an odd number of buttons. The satin material symbolizes the end of the bloodline. Burial clothes require the hands to be covered, and every single piece of clothing she gave you has sleeves longer than your hands. No, the skinwalker is about to become a demon. I’m taking a bus to save you right now!] Caleb compared the clothes, and it was true. He was originally only half-believing, but seeing the massive influx of viewers, an idea sparked. He deliberately acted as if he believed completely and immediately sent a deposit to the occultist. He even hyped it up: “Fam, if you want to see an occultist battle a beautiful skinwalker, remember to tip and subscribe!” Who knew that on Caleb’s birthday, a murder would actually happen in the house. Only, the person who died was my father-in-law. 07 My father-in-law’s body was torn to pieces, a gruesome sight. On his way home from sneaking around with his old flame, he got drunk and tumbled down a slope, where wild wolves ate more than half his body. But strangely, his lower half was completely gone, and most of the skin and flesh on his head had been gnawed off. Yet, the clothes I had sewn for him remained perfectly intact on his body. Now, the new clothes really had become burial clothes. Caleb knelt before his father’s corpse, bewildered: “Why him first… Wait, didn’t you say it would go in order of our birthdays? Damn it, that occultist lied to me again!” As I wailed and cried alongside my mother-in-law, I couldn’t help but curl my lips into an eerie smile. Yes, my father-in-law could have lived a few more days. But who told him to discover my secret. That day, I had secretly gone to see my grandma. The little old lady’s legs had gone bad again. Ever since I disappeared, she had been running around with my photo every day for the past four years, looking for me. When someone mocked her, saying the college student she raised didn’t respect herself and must have run off with a rich guy, my grandma went crazy, grabbed a hoe, and almost fought them to the death. “You goddamn filthy scumbag! Say one more word about my granddaughter, and I’ll show you what this old woman is capable of!” The police found my missing backpack and bloodstains in the woods, concluding that I had been murdered. But my grandma stubbornly believed that without a body, her granddaughter was fine. “The fortune teller said my granddaughter is destined to live to a hundred!” For four years, she went to the county police station every single week without fail to ask for updates. Even the police didn’t know what to do with this stubborn old woman. The mountain roads were tough; a round trip took four hours. How could her legs hold up? I stood outside the yard, watching her burn up with a fever, her mouth still murmuring my childhood nickname. She was so weak she couldn’t even lift her hand, couldn’t even get a sip of hot water. A corpse shouldn’t have a heart, but pain rooted itself in my chest. A dense, inescapable ache. I chopped wood, boiled water, and while she slept, refilled her cup, placing it right where she could reach it. I didn’t dare stay long. Skinwalkers can’t stay around the living for too long. Corpse energy is toxic. I lived day and night with the Caleb family of three, and the corpse poison had long invaded their organs. I was just waiting for the perfect, auspicious day to gut them and feast. But as soon as I got home, my father-in-law cornered me at the door, giving me a creepy smile. “I finally figured out where you sneak off to every afternoon before grocery shopping!” Seeing me play dumb, he dragged me in front of a mirror, looking triumphant. “Keep playing dumb. Look at what’s on your neck!” That’s when I realized the steam from boiling the water had melted the foundation on my neck. The dark red livor mortis underneath was fully exposed. My chest stopped moving, and my eyes narrowed dangerously. That was the sign a skinwalker was about to feast. But my father-in-law didn’t notice. He grabbed my waist, a lecherous smile on his face. “Cheating on my son, huh? Tell me, which bastard left those hickeys on your neck?” 08 My father-in-law was a creep. He had stolen my underwear several times. He would also quickly grab my waist when walking past me. My mother-in-law knew all this. She played blind and even encouraged it: “It’s nice having free eye candy at home. Don’t go wasting money on hussies outside!” That night, I was taking a shower when the bathroom light suddenly went out. Accompanied by heavy panting, my father-in-law slipped in and roughly pinned me to the floor. I faked a cry for help. “Stop pretending. I got rid of Caleb and his mother earlier. Now it’s just the two of us!” He grinned maliciously, lowering his voice: “What’s so great about my son? He yells at you all the time. Be with me, and I guarantee I’ll treat you right…” He couldn’t wait and grabbed my shoulders. As he rubbed, a whole patch of skin on my shoulder peeled off like soft tofu skin. My father-in-law realized something was wrong. The light flickered back on. He instinctively raised his hand and finally saw that he was holding a wet, wrinkled piece of human skin. Then, with a crack, my head twisted ninety degrees. The moment our eyes met, his gaze trembled, and he was so terrified he forgot to breathe. I smiled, my voice stiff and slow. “Just the two of us? Then I guess it’s time to dig in.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “440984”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I am a 911 dispatcher. Eight years ago, I took a frantic call from a little girl begging for help. She said she was being kidnapped, but over the phone, an adult took the receiver and explained it was just a prank. I believed them and hung up the phone. The very next day, the little girl’s body was found. Eight years later, my headset chimed, and I heard that exact same plea for help: “Help me… I’ve been kidnapped.” 01 On my very first day on the job, I received a strange call. There was nothing but faint, shallow panting on the other end of the line. I repeatedly asked if there was a medical emergency, if they needed an ambulance. After a long silence, a tiny, breathless voice finally whispered through the static. “Help me. I’ve been kidnapped.” I panicked, scrambling to pull up the trace, but my senior colleague next to me brushed it off. “Just another kid playing with a cell phone. We’ve been getting a ton of these lately. Clear it quick, don’t tie up the lines.” The little girl said her name was Ducky, and she was seven years old. When I pressed for details, she stammered, her words disjointed and nonsensical. “Ducky really wants to go home, but I don’t know which way to swim.” “Miss, please help me!” It sounded exactly like a kid making up a story. My tone turned stern. “Sweetheart, faking a 911 call is wrong. It stops us from helping people who are in real danger. Do you understand?” That night, a massive blackout had hit the Eastside District. Police units were stretched incredibly thin, and emergency calls were flooding the switchboard. In the last ten seconds of the call, the person on the other end changed. An adult took the phone, immediately lowering their voice in apology. “I am so, so sorry, officer! The kid was just messing around. I’ll make sure to teach her a lesson.” At the dispatch center, over 60% of our daily calls are accidental dials or pranks. After a brief reprimand, I hung up the phone and threw myself back into the overwhelming workload. But the next day, a body floated to the surface of the Eastside Reservoir. The victim was a seven-year-old girl. Her waterlogged face was swollen beyond recognition. On the strap of her little red overalls, a name was faintly embroidered. Darcy. 02 Ducky. Darcy. The little girl hadn’t been lying. It really was a desperate cry for help. The call connected at 11:43 PM. The coroner estimated the time of death around 1:00 AM. Shortly after I hung up that phone, she was brutally murdered. And I was the only person who had heard the killer’s voice. In the missing person flyers, the girl had big, bright eyes and cute braided pigtails. Now, lying on the cold autopsy table, her face was disfigured, her joints shattered into pieces. The horrific sight made even hardened veteran detectives tear up. “That absolute monster. They shattered her bones so she couldn’t swim, then tossed her in the water!” If I had made the right judgment call. If I had initiated a GPS ping in time. If… But death doesn’t care about “ifs.” Regret and guilt swallowed me whole. A million “ifs” shredded my conscience. I attended the little girl’s funeral. The moment she saw me, the mother—who had lost so much weight she looked like a skeleton—lunged at me, screaming with a shattered voice. “Why didn’t you send a squad car?! Why?! You heard her begging for help!” Every single word slammed into my heart like a sledgehammer. “You killed my daughter!” “Darcy had a congenital cognitive disability. She went to a special education school,” my captain comforted me later. “She couldn’t even go to the bathroom without a teacher reminding her. She couldn’t articulate sentences properly. Danielle, this is not your fault.” “It is,” I shook my head in agony. “Even though the killer disguised their voice, if you listen closely, their accent doesn’t match the child’s.” Darcy and her parents had a thick, distinct Southern drawl. But the killer spoke in perfectly neutral, standard American English. “If Darcy had sneaked a phone to call 911 and was caught, the killer rushing over to snatch the phone would have experienced an adrenaline spike. Their heart rate would have skyrocketed, and their speech would be rushed and panicked.” But this killer wasn’t. [Don’t worry, officer. I’ll make sure to teach her a lesson.] The voice was calm. Controlled. Exactly as if everything was going according to plan. While Darcy was on the phone, hidden in the static background noise, there were faint metallic clinks. After consulting audio experts, I confirmed it was the sound of heavy pliers being loaded and adjusted. Which meant, while the child was begging for her life on the phone, the killer was standing right next to her, preparing their weapon. “They enjoyed it. Giving the child a sliver of hope, just to personally crush it.” I looked up at the photo of the smiling girl on the wall, my eyes brimming with tears. “The killer deliberately forced Darcy to make that 911 call.” 03 The case went cold. The police poured massive resources into the investigation, but turned up almost nothing. There were security cameras outside her school, but because of the blackout and the torrential rain, the footage was completely useless. We never saw who took Darcy. Two months later, Darcy’s mother committed suicide. The rumor mill had been vicious. People started suspecting the parents had done it. Neighbors claimed they heard them arguing about the crushing medical debt from Darcy’s special needs treatments the day she went missing. Teachers at the school testified that although Darcy was cognitively impaired, she was fiercely resistant to strangers. She wouldn’t have gone with someone she didn’t know. When Darcy died, her life insurance paid out a massive settlement. “They bought all those policies this year, right when she got pregnant with her second child.” “Tsk. Cashing out their daughter’s life to pay for their brand-new baby boy.” Unable to bear the horrific gossip, Darcy’s mother jumped from a building. I didn’t understand. Why is it always the innocent, kind-hearted people who have to bleed to prove their innocence? Where was the real monster hiding? Every night I closed my eyes, that tiny, desperate voice echoed in my head. “Ducky wants to go home.” And I had answered so gently: “Sweetheart, is there a grown-up with you?” “Yes! Right here!” The girl had giggled through her stammer. That was the exact sentence that made me assume it was a prank. If this was a kidnapping for ransom or revenge, why not call the parents? Why would the killer risk getting caught just to force Darcy to call 911? That single phone call completely altered the trajectory of my life. I enrolled in the police academy, specializing in audio forensics and voice biometrics. After graduation, I requested to be stationed right back at the 911 dispatch center. Over the years, I insisted on taking the night shifts. I relentlessly studied new audio technologies and helped crack multiple major cases. State bureaus tried to recruit me multiple times, but I turned them all down. My captain tried to talk sense into me. “Danielle, you have to learn to let it go. You were a rookie on your first day. We can’t judge our past selves with the hindsight we have today.” I just smiled faintly. “But that monster will strike again.” I told myself that my only job was to wait. And I waited for eight long years. On the exact night of the eighth anniversary of Darcy’s death, the emergency hotline on my console lit up. Same date. Same time. My heart slammed violently against my ribs. A profound, terrifying premonition washed over me. It felt like all my grueling effort, all my sleepless nights, had been preparing me for this exact second. I grabbed my headset. “911, what is your emergency?” 04 On the other end, a trembling teenage girl’s voice answered— “Help me… I’ve been kidnapped.” 05 “I’ve been kidnapped, please help me…” The girl’s name was Chloe. She had been abducted walking home after a late-night study hall. She had been ambushed from behind, completely overpowered, and dragged into a van. When she woke up, her wrists and ankles were bound with heavy industrial wire. She managed to blindly dig her phone out of her pocket and immediately dialed 911. “Don’t panic. I am right here with you.” “Where did the person who took you go? Did you see their face?” My voice was gentle but steady, carrying an authoritative calm. Chloe’s hyperventilating breath instinctively slowed to match my rhythm, and her memory began to sharpen. “I couldn’t see. He grabbed me from behind. He had a mask and a hat on. He… he was really strong. He just threw me over his shoulder and tossed me into a van.” The girl’s voice cracked with tears. “When are you getting here? I’m so scared… Can’t you just track my phone’s GPS?” “The kidnapper installed an anti-tracking blocker on your phone. It takes time for our tech team to crack it.” I softened my tone. “Chloe, can you see any landmarks nearby? Describe everything around you. The smell, the colors, the temperature, the sounds—anything helps.” Chloe knew that every second, every detail, was a matter of life and death. Enduring the excruciating pain of the steel wire cutting into her flesh, she dragged herself toward a small, grimy window. Her vision was blurry. The trees outside thrashed in the heavy rain. She strained her eyes. “It smells like mold in here. The air is really damp, and it’s raining outside… but I can’t see the color of the walls…” Suddenly, a streak of light flashed in the distant, dark hills. Her breathing hitched. “A train just went by! But it wasn’t a long one—it felt like a freight train!” “You’re doing incredible, Chloe.” My fingers flew across the keyboard, cross-referencing data. “You went missing from Lincoln High on Elm Street. You were taken in a van. Based on standard driving speeds and tonight’s traffic and weather, you’re still within city limits. It’s currently raining in four districts. “Based on the acoustics echoing around your voice, you’re in a room with fully tiled walls. Those are typically used in meatpacking or food processing plants. “Combined with the freight train tracks, I have pinpointed your location to one of the abandoned factories in the Kingspoint Industrial Park. “The fastest squad car will be there in 17 minutes. “Until then, I am going to stay on the line with you. Okay?” It might have just been comfort, but Chloe felt a genuine surge of hope. She wasn’t fighting alone in the dark anymore. The silence around her was deafening. Her teeth chattered. “But… where did the kidnapper go?” “If he was smart enough to install a tracking blocker, why would he leave my phone in my pocket to let me call 911?” The line went silent for a fraction of a second. Me: “From now on, I need you to only answer my questions with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’. You cannot react visibly to anything I say. Can you do that?” “…Yes.” I spoke clearly, emphasizing every single word. “The killer hasn’t gone anywhere.” “He is currently inside that exact same room with you.” 06 How is that possible? Chloe’s entire body shook like a leaf in a hurricane. Her heart felt like it was going to explode out of her chest. There was nowhere to hide in this room… No, wait. There was. She held her breath, every hair on her body standing on end, desperately fighting the urge to turn around. Right behind her, leaning against the wall, was a large, rotting metal cabinet. Not too big. Not too small. Just big enough to fit a person inside. 07 The killer had never left the room. I strained my ears, hyper-focusing on every single frequency beneath the static on the call. Hidden in the white noise, I caught the distinct, metallic clink of heavy tools scraping together. The monster who murdered Darcy was standing right there. I told Chloe: “He deliberately left your phone so he could play a sick game with you. Right now, you need to pretend you don’t know he’s there. Find a way to slip out of the wire, walk out the door, and look for a way out.” “Delay him as long as physically possible. Keep yourself alive until my officers breach that building.” “Chloe, I will stay with you until you are safe. Trust me.” I wasn’t the terrified, helpless rookie from eight years ago. Tonight, I was putting everything on the line to bring this girl home. Chloe pushed every ounce of her strength into her ankles, trying to slide them out of the wire loops. Every inch she pulled scraped off a layer of skin. Gasping through the agonizing pain, she bit down hard on her lip and violently yanked her bloody feet free. Limping heavily, she twisted the doorknob. Outside was a pitch-black corridor. It looked endless, like a pathway straight into hell. Chloe’s nerves were pulled to the absolute snapping point. Her heart was in her throat. Just as she stood in the hallway clutching her phone, unsure of where to go, the metal cabinet inside the room behind her let out a faint creak. Thud. Someone stepped out. Through the earpiece, I dropped a single, heavy command: “Run!” 08 She ran. Pushing her legs harder than she ever had in her entire life. It felt like her lungs were going to rupture. Her body went completely numb, operating purely on survival instinct as she blindly stumbled through the dark corridors. The attacker followed her leisurely, like a hunter enjoying a casual stroll behind wounded prey. He paused to pick up a blood-stained sneaker she had lost in the scramble. He let out a dark, amused chuckle. “Fast little thing, aren’t you?” Chloe hid behind the door of a utility closet, pressing her back flat against the concrete wall. Her chest heaved violently. She clamped both hands over her mouth, waiting until the heavy footsteps slowly faded down the hall before finally daring to inhale. “He thinks I went downstairs. What do I do now?” Before she could turn the knob to leave, I instructed her: “You need to create a diversion. Is your other shoe still on? Take it off. Throw it down the stairs or at the end of the hallway to make him think you went in that direction.” Chloe hurled her shoe as far as she could and immediately sprinted back in the opposite direction. Exhausting every last drop of her adrenaline, tripping and falling over debris, she kept crawling forward. I praised her over the radio. In the dark, Chloe bit her lip and whispered softly, “My mom used to be a 911 dispatcher too… She taught me some of these tricks… If I don’t make it out. Officer, can you tell her… I really tried my best?” Wait, her mother was a dispatcher? A massive, terrifying wave of confusion crashed through my brain. But before I could ask for details… The phone signal cut out.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “440983”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Determined to study hard for my grad school entrance exams, I posted: [I’m dying. Quitting the game. Don’t look for me.] A few days later, I heard that a famous actor went crazy, mistaking a netizen for the love of his life. Later, by some twist of fate, I ended up in the entertainment industry. To steal resources, a two-faced actress intentionally set me up on a live reality show to disrespect the actor’s “dead” love. But it seems that “dead” love is… me? I’m still alive. What do I do now… 01 It was exam prep season again, and once more, I was screaming in frustration at my own laziness. My best friend, Chloe, rolled her eyes at me. “Audrey, if you don’t quit that game, you can forget about grad school. Keep dreaming.” I threw my phone down and started sulking. “What, still waiting for your gaming buddy?” Chloe patted my back. I stayed silent, just being stubborn. Even though my gaming buddy hadn’t been online for days, I wasn’t going to admit it. “Let it go. You’re just a random netizen to him. Focusing on your exams is what’s important,” she said. Ouch… This girl’s ability to stab me right in the heart is as strong as ever. Stabbing me right where it hurts the most. But I’m known for being stubborn to the bitter end. So I said, “It’s not because of him. I’m just addicted to the game.” “Fine, I’ll help you quit,” she said with an eye roll. I laughed. “Alright, if you can make it so I never log into that game again, I’ll admit you’re the boss.” “You said it, Audrey,” she said, grabbing my phone and frantically tapping away. A moment later, she tossed the phone back to me. “Done. I guarantee you’ll never dare log into this account again.” I had a bad feeling about this. I looked at the screen. My gaming profile had a new status update: AudreyA: [I’m dying. Quitting the game. Don’t look for me.] Then, all my cosmetic items—except for one limited-edition skin and the ones bound to my gaming buddy that couldn’t be gifted—were given away (mostly to Chloe herself, of course). My virtual pet, the cute little thing I always called my “daughter,” was transferred to my gaming buddy. She even left a message: [Take good care of our daughter.] Watching the DMs popping up one after another, my vision went dark, and I immediately logged off. She was right. I’d never dare log into this account again. Just pretend I’m dead. Socially dead. Later, I heard a rumor that a rising star, an actor who was quickly becoming an A-lister, suddenly went crazy. He completely abandoned his “single and available” image, risking his entire career, to search the world for the love of his life. And that love was a netizen he had never even met. Of course, I only heard passing mentions of this and didn’t know the details. At that time, I had already moved back to my hometown. A family member had fallen seriously ill. I was overwhelmed and had no time for anything else. Eventually, my family member recovered. I didn’t end up taking the grad school exams. Instead, through a bizarre twist of fate, I entered the entertainment industry, becoming an absolute nobody. Right now, I’m on my way to a live reality show. The famous actor, Liam Hayes, will also be there. A couple of days ago, a talented fan editor created a romantic montage of Liam and me, and a lot of netizens thought it was amazing. Liam’s team even reached out to my agency to discuss a potential collaboration. This reality show is basically a warm-up and a test run. Liam Hayes is that same rising star who went “crazy” before. He successfully became an A-lister. 02 “Audrey, remember, Liam is easy to talk to, but he has one absolute taboo: his dead first love.” In the car, my manager, Sarah, twisted my ear and lectured me. Liam’s “first love” stayed with him through his darkest times before he became famous. Back then, Liam had offended someone and was suppressed at every turn. He had no acting jobs; it was the darkest period of his life. But just when he finally achieved success, she died. Over the past year or so, countless women have tried to capitalize on his “first love” story, and they all met terrible ends. “This is your chance to make it big. Don’t screw it up,” Sarah said, poking my forehead. I nodded like a woodpecker and said, “Mission understood!” “Oh, and that two-faced Mia is also going to be there. Be careful,” Sarah added as I was getting out of the car. That woman, Mia, has been targeting me ever since I entered the industry. She’s stolen countless opportunities from me, pretended to be my best friend only to “accidentally” say things that got me tons of hate, and even paid for smear campaigns against me. She’s like gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe—annoying and impossible to get rid of. Thinking about her, I made a gagging face and got out of the car. … What I didn’t know was that a few hours ago… Mia was clinging to someone’s arm, saying, “David, you promised me. You have to make this happen.” “David” kissed her and said, “Don’t worry, it’s a done deal. Tonight, there will be an after-dinner game segment. I’ve arranged for Liam to draw the prompt to play ‘Elysium,’ the game he used to play with his dead first love.” “I’ve checked, and Audrey said she’s never played Elysium. Since her name is Audrey, I’ll have someone subtly suggest she use the username ‘Audrey.’ We’ll manipulate her into doing something that looks like she’s copying his first love’s old username, ‘AudreyA.’ I guarantee Liam will have her blacklisted from the industry by tomorrow.” “Also, you’ll play Elysium too. Remember, your persona in Elysium is the ‘skilled gamer.’ You need to criticize Audrey at the right moment. That way, both Liam and his fans will like you, and you can step over Audrey to get the collaboration opportunity.” Mia beamed with joy and sweetly said, “David~ You’re the best~” And then… … Of course, I knew none of this. Right now, I had just stepped out of the car, and the first person I saw was Liam. He is incredibly handsome. Perhaps because I knew about his tragic love story, he seemed to carry a unique, melancholic beauty. He stood there, casually waving hello. His dark eyes seemed filled with an impenetrable mist. For some reason, I suddenly felt a sense of familiarity. I shook my head. Am I crazy? I’ve only been in the industry for six months, and this is the first time I’ve met him. What familiarity? Audrey, you can’t just look at a handsome guy and think you knew him in a past life. With that thought, I adjusted my attitude and walked up to him with a bright smile. I said, “Hello, Liam. I’m Audrey Miller. You can just call me Audrey.” For some reason, he seemed to think of something and paused for a moment. I looked at him curiously. After about a second, he slightly lowered his eyes, his gaze focusing on me. He nodded, his voice clean and clear: “Hello.” 03 His voice also felt very familiar, but I figured I must have heard it on TV before. Totally normal. Audrey, keep it together. Just as I was thinking this, Mia’s voice called out from behind, “Liam, Audrey, wait for me!” I immediately rolled my eyes. What a buzzkill. Whatever, focus on the mission first. Today’s main objective: successfully cling to Liam’s coattails! So, during the live reality show, I worked incredibly hard. When Liam needed water, I was the first to pour it— “Water for you, Liam. If you need anything, just call for Audrey. I’m at your beck and call, guaranteed~” When it was time for tasks, I took the lead, rushing forward to grab all the chores— “I got this, Liam. My specialty is being physically fit. I’ve hardly ever been sick since I was a kid!” When we failed a mini-game and had to face a penalty, I stepped right up— “Don’t panic, I’m Liam’s designated stunt double. I’ll take the penalty. Our goal is: protect Liam from any harm!” … Sucking up, that’s what I do! Kissing ass, that’s my game! Kiss enough ass, and eventually, you’ll have it all! Slurp~ Let’s go, let’s go! Mia was also trying hard, but she cared too much about her image to compete with me. So, she resorted to passive-aggressive remarks from the sidelines: “Audrey, aren’t you afraid Liam’s fans will hate you for clinging to him like this?” I replied nonchalantly, “It’s fine, right? I’m not trying to push a romantic angle.” She’s the one trying to force a romantic narrative with Liam. When her first plan failed, she tried another: “But the way you’re acting, it looks like you’re just kissing his ass…” I chuckled: “No need to doubt it, I am kissing his ass. I want to be Liam’s right-hand man!” Saying this, I even looked directly at the camera: “Main quest: cling to Liam’s coattails, strive to be his most loyal sidekick, and pledge unwavering loyalty to Liam!” I finished with a fist pump. Then, ignoring Mia’s almost broken expression, I walked away with swagger. Netizens clipped this segment together with all my other kiss-ass moments from the day, and paired it with Mia’s almost broken expression. It instantly skyrocketed to the top of the trending list. [Hahaha, Mia’s expression, I’m dying of laughter.] [I don’t care, I want to be Liam’s most loyal sidekick too!] [Pledge unwavering loyalty to Liam!] … [Don’t laugh too soon. Audrey isn’t innocent. I actually think Mia is right, Audrey is clinging to Liam. There have been other female celebrities who played the ‘bro/sidekick’ card before, and they all ended up trying to leech off Liam’s fame later. Disgusting.] [+1 to the comment above.] [+My bank account number.] … My phone had been confiscated, so I didn’t know about the heated debates online. I only knew that this busy day was finally coming to an end. While shoveling food into my mouth, I sneaked glances at Liam. When his water glass was empty, I refilled it. Whatever he needed, I provided. Seeing him smile from time to time, I figured he must be pretty satisfied. Of course he is. Even I’m impressed by my level of service. Audrey, you’re the best! But when I suddenly looked up, I caught Mia’s sinister glare. It startled me so much I almost choked. Too scary. Just eat, ignore her. After dinner came the final activity before bed: drawing lots for a mini-game. I glanced at the crumpled pieces of paper. Singing, hide-and-seek, things like that were all there. I didn’t see all of them before a staff member put them into a box. “Liam, why don’t you draw?” the staff member said. “Whatever you pick, everyone will definitely be happy with.” Liam nodded modestly, reached in, and pulled out a piece of paper. The moment he opened it, he froze, his lips pressed tightly together. Little Qin, standing next to him, leaned over while talking: “What did you get? Liam, your expression is haha…” But before he could finish his “haha,” his expression changed drastically. He went completely silent. His eyes wide as saucers. Everyone was very curious, and so was I, but I didn’t dare look. Finally, Little Qin said, “Why don’t you draw another one?” But Liam said, “No need, this one is fine.” Then he flattened the piece of paper on the table. I took a look— “Elysium Map Race.” 04 The corners of my mouth twitched slightly. Dead memories suddenly attacked me. Oh no, this feels like heartburn. I was reminded of what my best friend did over a year ago. From that day until now, I haven’t played Elysium once. For some reason, besides my awkwardness, no one else spoke either. The atmosphere was incredibly weird. And everyone kept stealing glances at Liam. I was the least famous person there, so I didn’t dare make a sound. Right then, Mia suddenly spoke up: “Audrey, you’ve never played Elysium, right? Whoever teams up with you this time is going to suffer, haha.” She paused slightly, then looked at Liam and said, “Liam, I’m super good at Elysium. Let’s team up.” I instantly went on high alert. This two-faced Mia was waiting for this! She wants to show off her gaming skills to win Liam over and steal my opportunities again? Impossible! Absolutely impossible! I’ve been kissing up to Liam all day; I refuse to let someone else steal the fruit of my labor! Thinking this, I patted my chest and looked at Liam: “No, I’m super good. Liam, let’s team up!” I am a recognized pro at Elysium. Back in the day, I carried my gaming buddy across the map, flying through the skies and exploring every corner. Before Liam could say anything, Mia’s mocking voice came again— “Audrey, if you don’t know how to play, just admit it. You can’t lie just to team up with Liam. It wouldn’t be good if you dragged him down.” What I didn’t know was that online, someone had dug up an interview video of me from a month ago. In that video, the host asked me— “Audrey, have you played the popular game Elysium recently?” And the me on screen shook my head frantically: “No, absolutely not. I don’t know how to play that game at all.” The live chat had already exploded— [A month ago she said she’s never played, doesn’t know how, absolutely not. Now she dares to say she’s a pro? Is this a joke!] [Yeah, she probably hasn’t even leveled up much in a month. So funny. I used to think she was genuine, but now it seems she’s no different from the other women.] [Disgusting. Audrey, stay away from our Liam! Audrey get out of the entertainment industry!] … While the internet was blowing up, back at the reality show set. I’m someone who can’t stand a challenge, especially when Mia is being specifically malicious. Combining old grudges with new resentment, I had to win. “The game hasn’t even started, why are you already talking trash?” I said, instantly changing my expression and looking at Liam with a flattering smile. “Liam, pick me, pick me! Your loyal sidekick is your most reliable teammate! If you like this game, we can play it together all the time! I’m super good!” I even impressed myself with how fast I could change my tune. After all, with my skills, I could definitely carry Liam and make the game a breeze for him. Liam looked at my eager expression and, for some reason, seemed a bit stunned. He looked at me, but his dark eyes lacked focus. It was as if he was looking at something through me. Is there a problem? I used to act like this in the game when begging high-level players to carry me. Back then, I had another “sidekick” with me, and the high-level players were always happy to carry us. “Audrey, look, Liam hasn’t even said anything. He…” “Okay.” Before Mia could finish her mocking sentence, Liam agreed. Everyone around us was stunned. The internet exploded even more, because for the past year or so, Liam hadn’t teamed up with any female players. On the islands of Elysium, people often saw Liam taking a cute, pink virtual pet to travel across mountains, rivers, and oceans. Rumor had it that the virtual pet was the “daughter” previously raised by “AudreyA.” More and more people were hating on me online, but I didn’t know. I was happily taking a phone from a staff member. Create a new account or log into my old one? Definitely the old one. A new account wouldn’t have any levels; how could I beat anyone? If I want to carry the boss, I need to bring my absolute peak skills! Clenching fists.jpg Besides, that happened a year and a half ago. Surely no one remembers it anymore… Surely… Thinking this, I expertly entered my ID and password. After logging in, the familiar colorful interface washed over me. Long time no see.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “440982”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I accidentally stumbled upon my husband’s search history on his phone. The top query read: “How to make your wife die accidentally during childbirth?” I touched my seven-month pregnant belly, a cold sweat breaking out across my back. 01 It was evening, and my husband was taking a shower. I was in the living room, putting together my hospital bag. My phone was dead, so I instinctively picked up his to look up some labor preparation tips. But I accidentally swiped into his search history. Two queries instantly grabbed my attention: “How to make a pregnant woman die accidentally during childbirth?” “Inheritance order after the accidental death of a spouse?” I froze on the spot, thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me. I checked again and again, but it was real. He had actually searched for this. But why? Why would he search for something like this? I rubbed my seven-month pregnant belly, a chilling wave creeping up my spine. “Honey, I forgot my towel! It’s in the cabinet, can you grab it for me?” my husband yelled from the bathroom. I hesitated for a second, then quickly deleted those two search queries before setting his phone down. I got up and fetched his towel. The moment he stepped out of the bathroom, he immediately picked up his phone and checked it. I saw a visible wave of relief wash over his face. He rubbed his hair with the towel and asked, “Honey, are you washing your hair tonight? I can help you.” “N-no… no thanks,” I cleared my throat. “I feel a little chilled. I think I’m just going to go to bed.” With that, I got up and walked toward the bedroom. Hearing that I felt chilled, he immediately followed me, asking a dozen concerned questions. He reminded me that I was in my third trimester and needed to be extra careful with my health. Looking at this incredibly attentive, thoughtful man in front of me, I couldn’t possibly connect him to the horrifying search history on his phone… 02 My name is Chloe, and I’ve been married to Mark for almost two years. It’s his second marriage; he has a six-year-old son from his previous marriage who lives with his ex-wife. This is my first marriage, and I’m currently seven months pregnant. Perhaps because it was his second marriage, he treated me exceptionally well. He never let me do any chores; he even hand-washed my underwear. Since I got pregnant, he’s taken care of me meticulously. Now that I’m in my third trimester, my whole body is swollen, and I can’t even bend over. Every day, he brings me a basin of warm water to wash my face and feet. All our friends and relatives envy me for finding such a good husband. He even insisted on scheduling a C-section for my delivery because he was terrified of me being in pain, and he already booked a luxury postpartum care center for me… I couldn’t understand it. Why would a universally praised “perfect husband” secretly search for something so sinister? I couldn’t sleep at all that night. Once I was absolutely certain he was in a deep sleep, I slipped his phone out from under his pillow. I opened the browser again, only to find that his entire search history had been wiped clean, and the browser was now set to incognito mode. When I used his phone earlier, it definitely wasn’t in incognito mode. He must have changed the settings right after his shower. I combed through all his social media apps, transaction histories, emails, photo albums, and even his food delivery apps. I found absolutely nothing suspicious. It was too clean. It was as clean as a brand-new phone. The cleaner it was, the more paranoid I became. As I put his phone down, I suddenly remembered an article I read a few days ago about how many modern smartphones have a “Dual Space” or hidden operating system feature. I quickly grabbed my own phone and searched for his specific phone model. Following the online tutorial, I typed in the shortcut, and sure enough, a completely different operating system login screen appeared. But it required a password. 03 Mark and I had always shared the same phone passcode. He always said husband and wife shouldn’t have secrets. And I had always believed him. But right now, staring at the hidden system on his phone, I felt completely helpless. I didn’t know the password. I tried his birthday, my birthday, our anniversary… all incorrect. One more wrong attempt and it would lock me out for half an hour. Suddenly, a string of numbers flashed through my mind. I typed them in, and to my shock, it worked. With a soft ding, the phone unlocked. And I saw a completely different Mark. This system looked like the one he actually used every day. It was filled with traces of his real life: photos, texts, social media chats… I saw that he was still in constant contact with his ex-wife, frequently transferring money to her. His ex-wife kept reminding him to make absolutely sure I had a C-section, because once I was on the operating table, they could easily manipulate the situation… I saw his chat logs with an online lawyer, asking to confirm that if a wife dies, the husband is the primary inheritor of her estate… I saw him sending pictures of the massive life insurance policy he bought for me a year ago, calculating exactly how much payout he would get when I died… In an instant, everything made sense. A year ago, Mark suddenly bought two massive life insurance policies—one for him, one for me, naming each other as the sole beneficiaries. He said at the time, “Honey, I’m always on the road for sales, constantly taking flights and trains. I need to make sure you’re protected.” I remember crying and stopping him, telling him not to say such stupid things, that we would be together forever, for a long, long time. Tears blurred my vision. With trembling hands, I scrolled further down. Finally, his ex-wife asked him: [What if the baby in her stomach survives the birth? Are you going to get soft-hearted?] He swore up and down that absolutely wouldn’t happen, claiming that his only child in this lifetime would be Leo. Leo. His six-year-old son with his ex-wife. The password I just used to unlock this hidden system was Leo’s birthday. They were the real family of three. And I? I was just their stepping stone to a wealthy life in the city. I had a house, a car, and premium urban residency status… “Honey, what are you looking at?” Just as I was completely absorbed in the messages, the person next to me shifted. Mark was awake. 04 He propped himself up on his elbow, instinctively leaning over to see my screen. In that split second, a million horrifying scenarios flashed through my mind. If he realized I had discovered his secret, would he snap and try to kill me right here, right now? I was heavily pregnant; I stood absolutely zero chance against him in a physical fight. Over the two years of our marriage, he had meticulously won the absolute trust of all my friends and family, building an impenetrable “perfect husband” persona. If I died tonight, no one would even suspect him. “Honey, my stomach is really acting up,” I said, putting one hand on my belly while my other hand quickly held down the power button on his phone to shut it off. “Your phone died. Can you help me find mine?” As long as his phone was off, he wouldn’t know I had accessed the hidden system. He pulled my phone out from under my pillow. “Why is your stomach hurting? You’re only seven months along. Did you eat something bad?” “I need to go to the bathroom,” I said, snatching my phone from him and waddling as fast as I could to the master bathroom. I quickly locked the door. Trembling, I sent a text to my younger brother: “Come pick me up right now. Don’t ask questions. Don’t call me. Just come. NOW.” Just as I hit send, a knock sounded on the bathroom door. “Honey, are you okay? Does it still hurt?” I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead and tried to sound as normal as possible. “Honey, I suddenly have a huge craving for those spring rolls from that 24-hour diner outside the neighborhood. Could you go buy some for me?” It was a diner we used to sneak out to for late-night snacks all the time. He hesitated for a second, but agreed. I listened to him rustling around, putting on his clothes, and then heard the distinct sound of the front door closing. I didn’t leave the bathroom immediately. I waited another minute to make sure he was gone, then stood on my tiptoes to peek out the frosted bathroom window. I saw him wearing a baseball cap, jogging toward the neighborhood entrance. I let out a massive breath of relief, unlocked the door, and hurried out. I called my brother while riding the elevator down. But the moment I stepped out of the elevator into the lobby, a tall shadow blocked my path. “Honey, where are you going?” It was Mark. He hadn’t left at all. He had been waiting for me in the lobby the whole time. 05 It was dead silent. Even the streetlights outside had flickered off. I took a deep breath and carefully studied his expression. I didn’t see any obvious hostility or suspicion. I forced myself to smile, walking up and looping my arm through his, just like I normally would. “Honey, I was so hungry, and you were taking forever, so I just came down to find you.” He looked at me with a helpless, doting smile. “You little glutton. Who told you to skip dinner? I forgot my wallet upstairs, I was just about to go back up and get it.” “I brought my phone, I can pay. Let’s go,” I said, steering us toward the neighborhood gate. The diner owner greeted us warmly, just like usual. While we were waiting for the spring rolls, my brother, Tyler, pulled up in his truck. I rushed over to him before Mark could react. “Is Dad okay? Is his heart acting up again? I’ll come home with you right now.” Tyler looked at me, completely confused. Mark had already walked over. “What’s wrong? What happened to your dad?” I answered quickly, “It’s nothing serious, just his old chronic issue acting up again. Honey, I’m gonna go stay at my parents’ house with my brother tonight. You go home and get some sleep, you have work tomorrow.” Saying that, I quickly climbed into the passenger seat of Tyler’s truck. “Honey, it’s so late, let me come with you,” Mark said, reaching for the door handle. I quickly stopped him. “It’s fine! It’s just Dad’s usual flair-up, I just need to check on him. Tyler’s driving, what are you worried about?” Mark thought for a second, then nodded. “Alright. I’ll come pick you up after work tomorrow.” As the truck pulled away, I watched Mark’s figure shrink in the rearview mirror. Only then did I finally let myself breathe. 06 On the drive, Tyler demanded to know what the hell was going on. Calling him in the middle of the night, telling him not to speak… I hesitated, but finally told him everything I had found in Mark’s hidden phone system. Hearing it all, Tyler instinctively slammed on the brakes, pulling over to the side of the road. “Chloe, are you sure you’re not mistaken? Mark treats you like a queen. How could he possibly do something like this? Is there a misunderstanding?” See? Even my own brother didn’t believe it. Mark’s “perfect husband” facade was flawless. If I died, absolutely no one would suspect him. “Do you think I’d joke about my own life?” I asked him. Tyler looked at my face, finally realizing the gravity of the situation. He gripped the steering wheel tight. “I’m going to go find that bastard right now and beat him half to death.” I quickly stopped him. “Tyler, don’t be stupid! We don’t have any hard evidence right now. The chat logs are in his phone, he can delete them the second he suspects anything.” “Then what do we do? We go to the cops.” “It’s useless. Without proof, they won’t believe a pregnant woman claiming her husband is plotting to kill her. Tyler, take me home first. We need to plan this out carefully, and we can’t tell Mom and Dad yet.” Tyler agreed and drove me to my parents’ house. Early the next morning, he sent me a link. It was a fake online legal consultation website he had a programmer friend build overnight. “Doesn’t Mark love consulting lawyers online? Find a way to get him to visit this site. As long as he uses it, I can track his keystrokes and secure the evidence.” I was impressed by my brother’s speed. Using my marketing background, I ran a targeted ad for the website, then anonymously emailed the link to Mark’s private inbox. Then, I had Tyler take me to my current hospital. I requested copies of all my prenatal records and immediately booked my delivery at a different, private hospital across town. Just as I finished the paperwork, I saw Mark’s ex-wife, Sarah, walking into the hospital. She was holding Leo’s hand as the kid skipped along happily. Behind them was a middle-aged man I didn’t recognize. 07 Mark’s ex-wife, Sarah, was actually a moderately famous mommy vlogger. She gained a massive following by documenting her daily life raising her son. Her son supposedly suffered from congenital heart disease, and she built her entire brand around the persona of a “strong, independent single mother holding up the sky for her sick child.” If I hadn’t seen those monstrous chat logs with my own eyes last night, I probably would have been moved by her brave, resilient mother persona too. Thinking of this, I instinctively pulled out my phone and recorded a video of the three of them walking into the pediatrics wing together. I followed them discreetly. They left shortly after getting Leo a routine check-up. Once they were gone, Tyler and I slipped a nurse a hundred bucks to get a copy of Leo’s medical report. The report showed he was perfectly healthy. Leo didn’t have any heart condition whatsoever. I tucked the report into my bag, planning to post it anonymously online later. When I got back to my parents’ house, Mark was already there. He looked like he had just gotten off work, still wearing his company polo, carrying two expensive gift boxes. He looked like the picture of a polite, respectful son-in-law. That was exactly how he had fooled me. That polished, gentlemanly facade. I had demanded no ring, no house, and no car, marrying this divorced man purely out of love. When he walked in, he greeted my dad warmly, then pulled a bag of spring rolls from his pocket. “Honey, I know you were craving these last night, so I brought you some fresh ones.” Then, he smoothly rolled up his sleeves and went into the kitchen to help my mom cook. Tyler was glaring at him with such intense hatred I had to drag him into a bedroom. I pulled two bottles of expensive liquor from my dad’s cabinet. “Whether we get the evidence today depends entirely on you.” Tyler immediately understood the assignment. During dinner, Tyler relentlessly poured drinks for Mark. Tyler works in corporate sales; his alcohol tolerance is legendary. He once drank an entire table of clients under the table. Under Tyler’s relentless assault, Mark quickly surrendered, passing out face-down on the dining table. I grabbed his phone, unlocked the hidden system, and quickly AirDropped all the evidence files to my laptop. Just as I was about to put the phone back, Tyler snatched it from me. “Just getting his chat logs isn’t enough. Let me leave him a little present.” He typed furiously on Mark’s phone, handed it back to me, and then installed an app on my phone. When I opened the app, I could see a live mirror of Mark’s phone screen. He had installed spyware. 08 “A buddy of mine developed it. Just leave him a five-star review on the app store when this is over,” Tyler explained. While we were doing all this, my parents were in the living room, completely unaware of what we were up to, so they didn’t ask any questions. With everything secured, I compiled the medical report I got today, along with a covert audio recording of a pediatric cardiologist confirming the kid was healthy, into a video. I posted it anonymously to a gossip forum. Sarah was a well-known influencer. A video exposing her fake “sick child” grift instantly went viral. People started digging through her old videos, pointing out massive inconsistencies. The backlash was brutal. People accused her of being a sociopathic scammer, cursing her own child just for engagement and donations… Customers who bought the products she promoted started demanding refunds, threatening to sue her for fraud… In a matter of hours, her comment section became an absolute warzone. I sat in my old bedroom, scrolling through the comments and waiting. Sure enough, in the middle of the night, Mark’s phone lit up in the guest room. It was Sarah. She was crying hysterically, begging him to look at the trending topics and asking what she should do. Mark panicked. He told her not to worry and that he was coming over immediately. The second Mark left my parents’ house, I woke Tyler up, wanting him to drive me to follow Mark. “Chloe, you’re heavily pregnant. It’s too dangerous. I’ll go alone. You stay here and monitor his phone screen.” With that, Tyler grabbed his keys and rushed out the door. I went back to my room, my eyes glued to the phone screen. Aside from Mark opening his chat app to scroll through his old messages with me, he didn’t do anything suspicious. As dawn approached, I still hadn’t heard from Tyler. I was starting to get worried and was just about to call him when I heard a heavy thud from the living room. It sounded like something large had collapsed onto the floor. I threw my door open and gasped. My dad was lying flat on his back on the hardwood floor. His eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling, his limbs twitching sporadically. “Dad! Dad, what’s wrong?!” I screamed, rushing over to him. My dad’s eyes darted toward the phone lying next to his hand. His trembling finger pointed at the screen. It was playing Sarah’s newest video. She looked pitiful, tears streaming down her face, holding up a stack of (forged) medical documents. She claimed she never lied, that Leo really did have a severe heart condition when he was younger, and that it had only recently been cured through surgery. She then claimed she knew exactly who was behind the “vicious smear campaign.” And then, she displayed a photo of Mark and me. She stated that I was the homewrecker who destroyed her family, stole her husband, and now, jealous of her success online, was trying to ruin her life. She even leaked heavily edited chat logs between Mark and me from back when she and Mark were still legally married… Finally. She sobbed into the camera: [Chloe, you’re younger than me, you’re prettier than me. When you stole my husband and destroyed my family, I knew I couldn’t compete. I wanted to die. Leo was the only reason I kept living. I only have him left. I don’t have an education, I don’t know how to speak eloquently, I just make silly little videos to earn enough to feed my son. Why won’t you let us go? Chloe, I’m begging you, for the love of God, please spare us. I’ll get on my knees for you, I’ll beg you…] She literally got on her knees and bowed to the camera, crying hysterically, painting me as a demonic, sociopathic villain… The internet mob instantly turned on me. They cursed me for being a shameless homewrecker, wishing death on me and my unborn child… My dad had seen the video, suffered a massive stroke from the shock, and collapsed. “Dad, it’s a lie, it’s not what you think. Please don’t panic, I’m calling an ambulance right now.” I cried, grabbing my phone to dial 911. Just then, the front door clicked open. I thought it was Tyler coming back. I looked up, asking for help, but froze. Standing in the doorway was Mark. His face was darker than I had ever seen it. His pitch-black eyes churned with a terrifying, murderous rage. “You posted the video exposing Leo, didn’t you?” he asked, stepping inside and locking the front door behind him. 09 “I don’t know what you’re talking about! My dad just had a stroke because of the video your ex-wife posted! I have to get him to the hospital!” I yelled, trying to support my dad’s head while dialing 911. But Mark violently snatched the phone from my hand. “I asked you a question, Chloe. I want an explanation. Why are you framing Sarah?” He towered over me, looking down with cold, dead eyes. His gentle, caring husband persona was completely gone, replaced by the face of a violent stranger. I could clearly see the murderous intent in his eyes… Thinking about the chat logs where they plotted my death, I scrambled backward in sheer terror. “M-Mark…” “What’s going on? Chloe, what happened?” My mom heard the commotion and hurried out of the master bedroom, pulling a cardigan over her shoulders. When she saw my dad twitching on the floor, her legs gave out. “Oh my god! Honey! What happened to you?!” Seeing my mom, the demonic look on Mark’s face instantly vanished, replaced by his usual calm demeanor. He cleared his throat. “It looks like a stroke. Let’s get him to the hospital.” He stepped forward, reaching out to help lift my dad, but I subtly blocked his hands. “N-no need. I already called an ambulance.” The paramedics arrived quickly, and my dad was rushed to the ER. Thank God we got him there in time. After emergency treatment, he was stabilized, but he remained paralyzed on his right side and needed to stay in the ICU for observation. Mark stayed by my side the entire time. He ran around paying the hospital fees, handling the paperwork, and comforting my weeping mother. Watching him, I almost convinced myself that the terrifying monster I saw in the apartment was just a hallucination. But only almost. I knew exactly how terrifying this man truly was. Tyler rushed into the hospital shortly after. When he saw Mark, he froze for a second. “How’s Dad? He was perfectly fine yesterday, how did he suddenly have a stroke?” he asked me. “He’s stabilized, but the doctor said the recovery will be brutal. He might be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life,” I sobbed, unable to hold back the tears. Tyler swayed on his feet. He shot a dark glare at Mark, then asked me, “What caused it?” I didn’t hold back. I told him everything about Sarah’s retaliation video. The moment Tyler heard the full story, he spun around and delivered a brutal right hook directly to Mark’s jaw. “You son of a bitch! Is this how you treat my sister?! Are you and your psycho ex-wife ever going to stop?!” Mark stumbled backward from the force of the punch. “Tyler, what gives you the right to hit me?! You framed Leo first! Sarah was just giving you a taste of your own medicine!” “Whether your ‘son’ is sick or not, or whether your ex-wife is a scamming fraud, YOU fucking know the truth better than anyone! You absolute piece of garbage! My sister was blind to ever marry you!” Tyler roared, launching a vicious kick at Mark’s ribs. Mark hit the floor hard. He scrambled up, raising his fists to fight back, but I quickly grabbed Tyler’s arm. “Stop it. Go home, Mark. Tyler is furious right now, don’t push him.” Tyler shoved Mark toward the elevator. “Get the hell out of here before I kill you.” Mark cursed under his breath, wiped the blood from his lip, and stormed off. Once he was completely gone, Tyler pulled a thick stack of printed documents from his jacket. “This is what I found today.” He explained that after he left the house at dawn, he tailed Mark all the way to Sarah’s luxury apartment complex. But because he didn’t have a resident pass, security wouldn’t let him in. While he was pacing outside taking photos, trying to figure out how to sneak in, he spotted a middle-aged man pacing near the gate too. It was the same man we had seen with Sarah at the hospital. The man was clearly trying to see Sarah, but he was also being blocked by security. Tyler used his connections to run a background check on the guy. The man’s last name was Miller. He was a wealthy real estate contractor. Turns out, he had been sleeping with Sarah long before she ever married Mark. Even after Sarah married Mark, she never broke it off with Miller. They had been carrying on an affair the entire time. After Sarah and Mark divorced, she and Miller practically moved in together. And Mark? He had absolutely zero clue this man even existed. “Leo’s paternity is highly questionable,” I blurted out instinctively.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “440981”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel